


To Start Anew

by Kateis_Cakeis



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur has magic, Canon Era, Child Abuse, Episode: s05e05 The Disir, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic Revealed, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 00:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 51,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15919503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kateis_Cakeis/pseuds/Kateis_Cakeis
Summary: Was it possible, to correct the wrongs of the world? To go back and see if choices really mattered. To see if people could change, or if they are always the same at their core.Were events always destined to happen? Fixed?Well, a disgruntled Merlin was about to find out. For waiting a hundred years was enough. Going back in time and making alterations, surely that would be the answer. Because if he was kind, perhaps things could be new, could be different. Maybe Arthur could live.





	1. Uncertain Future

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so glad it’s finally time to post this. It’s been doneee for so long. And I’m so excited!  
> I have to say a super big thanks to asexualenjolras for doing an awesome job at beta-ing and for also swooping in and saving my bacon when I desperately needed another beta.  
> Also thank you to arthur_pendragon for persuading me to do this and for giving me support along the way!!  
> Finally, thank you to mella68. The art is amazing and simply the best. Give all the support guys!!

Merlin sat at the lake because what else was he supposed to do on a summer’s evening, on the anniversary of the death? The death that had hit him hardest, that he could never recover from, no matter how many years he lived. He had seen so many die; he knew how to cope with grief. Except when it came to Arthur. How could he ever accept his death?

He would rise again? No. Merlin couldn’t wait that long. It had already been a hundred years, it was time for fate to change. He could no longer wait on destiny, he had to alter it. For his own sake.

While he still met with druids, they spoke so strongly of destiny even then. Hearing that word tore at the hole in Merlin’s heart, making his grief and guilt bleed from him.

No, he couldn’t stand by and watch the years tick on with no surety he would ever have Arthur back. He couldn’t live like that; he refused to. Destiny would bend to his will.

On the one hand, he knew a spell to help in his endeavour. On the other hand, everyone under the sun had told him not to use it, saying it would only bring more heartbreak, more pain. But Merlin, he had pondered over this for decades and had a plan. And it was a good one, which could have the ability to work, if done right.

So, he got up from the mud and brushed himself down. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly. He focused on one memory, and he focused on it so tightly that it was all that consumed his mind. After that, he only had to speak.

“ _Feriġe mec_ _hrycg_ ,” he shouted so loudly that the birds stirred and flew away.

A gale force wind picked up around him. The trees rocked from side to side, blowing in the violent gale. The lake rippled and sprang to life like a helicopter was hovering above it. Merlin stood still, not even opening his eyes as everything transformed around him. The lake faded into walls, the trees became a window. The ground beneath him was replaced by a bed and the grass morphed into wooden flooring.

His eyes flung open.

He was in his old room, in Camelot. The sounds of the bustling town entered his ears willingly and he glanced all around, feeling his face. He knew he was much younger than the point where he had stopped aging. He was in a time he knew well, a time he mourned. Being there filled him with gratitude, in a way, till the memories of what would come next filled him.

But before he could do anything, he was interrupted. Time and time again, as he attempted to ignore it, all he could hear was ‘ _Merrrrlinnn’_. An impatient dragon wanted his attention and by golly, he was not ready for such an interaction, but off he went anyway, as he had no time to delay at all. Everything rested on the actions he took from this day forward. Everything.

Merlin came running into Kilgharrah’s cave, huffing. “What do you want?”

Kilgharrah straightened up. “Old warlock… What are you doing back here?”

“Old…?”

“Do not play games, Merlin, I know you are not of this time. Your body may be young once more, but your mind is not. What do you hope to achieve?”

Merlin scoffed. “What do I– I’m going to save Arthur’s life.”

“How is coming here going to do that? He will rise again, surely I told you this.”

“You did but it’s been a hundred years since he died. I can’t– I can’t live any longer without him.”

“But you will relive all these years only to watch him die again.”

He shook his head fervently. “No, he won’t die this time. I’m going to do things differently, it will be different. I can save Morgana, I can prevent Mordred from betraying me.”

“You do not know what you are doing. The paths may be different this time, but the end will always be the same. Arthur will always die.”

“No. No, I can’t accept that. I won’t. There has to be a way.”

“And how will you do it? You know everything that happens, would that conflict you?”

Kilgharrah was right. Not only would knowing everything conflict him, it had the power to change Merlin in ways he couldn’t comprehend. He was a different person to the Merlin of the past. For it to work genuinely, he couldn’t know _everything_.

“I’m going to leave myself a note and wipe my future memories. I will wake like it was any normal day, with the knowledge of what I must do.” Merlin thinned his lips, making a plan on the spot. “Every word I said, every action I made, it must be the same. I won’t change who I was now. I am not this person anymore.” He gestured to himself, sighing.

“Old warlock, you are brave to attempt such a thing, but I fear the results will be the same.”

“Then I will keep trying, until the result is different.”

Merlin stormed out, leaving a bemused Kilgharrah behind. He headed up, into the castle, walking fast. In a few days, the fire Morgana accidentally caused would take place and the hunt for sorcerers would begin. At least this time Merlin aimed to treat Morgana differently.

In his haste to get back to his room, he crashed into somebody. Unfortunately, it was someone he only wished to see once his memory had been wiped.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted. “Watch where you’re going.”

Merlin stared at him, completely vacant. It was Arthur, _his_ Arthur, standing there, so young. So naïve. He felt all the memories of the future hit him one by one, knowing all that came next for Arthur. Knowing that he would be betrayed over and over, that he would be hurt, that he would face trials he could never dream of.

Arthur clicked his fingers. “Merlin, are you alright?”

Merlin came back to himself, blinking back memories. “Yes. Yes, I’m perfectly fine, my lord.”

“Well, if that’s the case– My stables need mucking out.”

“Of course, Sire.”

Arthur nodded and walked off, leaving Merlin in a daze. He hadn’t thought of his reaction to seeing Arthur alive. It stung to know what was to come. Especially years from now, where Arthur would fight his last battle. This was the reason why erasing his memory was paramount. New mistakes would be made through unnecessary worrying. He wanted to enjoy this time, rather than feeling a hole in his chest every time he saw Arthur.

Considering how much he had to do, he shook off the thoughts and memories, making his way to his room. Once he got there, he settled on his bed and got to writing a note. A note that tore at him as he read through it, checking no detail was missed.

 _‘Merlin_ , _trust the words that are upon this note_. _I cannot say who wrote it_ , _but you must know it is important that you never forget the advice I speak of_.

 _Morgana will find out about her magic in a few days and she will be terrified by it_. _Despite Gaius’s advice_ , _be kind to her and tell her she has magic_. _Say that you have magic too and teach her_. _Even if you have to do it without telling Gaius_.

 _If you can_ , _ensure she doesn’t go anywhere with Morgause_ , _for she will be ripped from you if she does_.

 _And when it comes to the boy_ , _Mordred_ , _be kind to him_. _Don’t listen to The Great Dragon or pay any mind to the vision you will see_. _You must become friends and you must treat him well_. _Do your best to make sure someone close to him doesn’t die years from now_ , _otherwise all will be lost_. _’_

He turned the piece of paper over, as he ran out of space, writing down a Plan B, in case nothing did change in the end.

 _‘If all goes wrong and you’re stuck in a position where you have lost Arthur after a battle_ , _then you must use this spell:_

 _Ic_ _bebēode þe eftcyrran mín ingemynd æt mec_

 _Don’t read into its words. Don’t go looking for it. Trust me. When you do use it, only then will you know what to do_. _’_

Merlin swiftly folded up the note and placed it in his pocket. He looked around his room, getting one last look with all his memories still intact.

He sighed and closed his eyes, getting all his magic to listen to him. “ _Geleáfa þes dæg ond beforan_ , _ānim sé tóweardnes_.”

He fell back on his bed, eyes closed. As he slept, his memories wiped themselves away, as if they didn’t exist. At least, that was the case on the surface. They would always lurk in the shadows, ready to give him intense feelings of déjà vu whenever main events of his life came to pass by. In a timeline that would be different, that would change the course of the future.

When he woke, it was like nothing had happened. He was confused as to how he ended up sleeping when he should have been working. But that happened frequently enough for him not to bother with it. Instead, he went about his day, until he felt an uncomfortable edge press against him, through his pocket. He dove into it, while he was washing Arthur’s floors. What he did not expect was a piece of paper. He stood, staring as he unfolded it. As he skimmed the words, his brow creased. Nothing made sense, how did someone know so much of the future when everyone else only had vague visions and riddles?

Nevertheless, Merlin felt compelled to take the note’s advice, so he pocketed it, going back to his duties and sticking to them until a fire broke loose in Morgana’s chambers. As everything was going down, Merlin knew the note was referring to what he saw before him. It had to be magic, Morgana’s magic.

So, when Morgana burst into Gaius’s quarters, all shaken up, tears in her eyes, Merlin knew what he had to do. Because even though the note was mysterious, and all his instincts told him to ignore it, the words felt familiar enough for him to trust it.

“I don't want any more remedies. They won't do any good. It's magic, Merlin,” Morgana said, shaking like a leaf blowing in the wind.

Merlin sighed, his entire being told him that it was now or never. “I know.”

Morgana’s eyes widened. “You do?”

“Yes, Morgana, I know magic.”

“Is it because you work for Gaius?”

“No… I…” He shook his head, glancing around the room. “Trust me.”

“If it’s not because of Gaius, how do you know magic?”

“I’m– I’m a sorcerer.”

Morgana stepped back, breathing carefully. “You are?”

“I am.” He looked to the door. “I will come see you tomorrow, for now, go back to your room and try to sleep, please.”

“Alright… Thank you, Merlin.” She smiled sorrowfully before dashing off and Merlin let out a sigh of relief.

The following day, Morgana caught Merlin in the halls, getting him to follow her. No one paid any mind that Merlin was walking by Morgana’s side through the corridors, but people began to speak as one or two servants noticed Merlin enter her room.

“So, you do have magic?” Morgana checked as she locked her door.

Merlin turned to a candle in the far side of the room. “ _Forbearnan_.”

The candle sparked alight. Morgana jumped back against her door, terrified of the fire. Merlin looked to her sympathetically as his eyes washed over with gold, putting the candle out silently. Morgana nodded to him, thanking him for ridding the room of the fire.

“I want to teach you, Morgana. I’m still learning myself, but if I help you, I think it would benefit us both.”

She smiled. “I have much to learn. Please, teach me anything you know.”

And he did. Whenever he had time away from Arthur or Gaius, he would be with Morgana, teaching her spells. With great skills of hiding, he would bring up the grimoire with him, learning along with Morgana. (Though, they only used spells that were beneficial and wouldn’t raise anyone’s attention to their activities).

They found that the best time to learn was after everyone else had gone to bed. It was easier for Merlin to sneak around then, getting both himself and the book up to Morgana’s chambers in record times.

And things were manageable like that. Morgana wasn’t scared anymore, and she could control her magic far better. Keeping it a secret was hard, however, as sometimes Gaius would see Merlin creep back into their quarters. He managed to convince Gaius he was only down at the tavern, which seemed to do the trick.

As time went on, Merlin became wary once Morgana was given the bracelet from Morgause. Because now, Morgana had some trust in her, saying that she felt she knew her. Merlin could only think of the warning in the note, but said nothing, as he knew nothing about it. He could only continue their lessons, hoping that whatever the note was warning him about, would never come to pass.

It was a surprise to him when on one night, Morgana was wearing a cloak as if she was ready to go out, rather than have another group lesson.

“Morgana, what are you doing?” he asked, cautiously, hoping the answer wasn’t what he thought it was.

Morgana frowned, not wanting to upset Merlin. “Morgause offered me a chance to go away with her, for a year. When I return, I will know all there is to know.”

Merlin shook his head, feeling something slip from him. “Please, Morgana– Don’t do this.”

“I have to. Being here is dangerous. At least with Morgause, I have a better chance.”

Even though Merlin tried, Morgana went anyway. And he had that feeling he always got, that something bad was going to happen as a result of his actions. But he hoped that Morgana would be safe and well during the year, that she would kind.

But the events unfolded just the same. Uther believed she had been taken and so there was an endless hunt for a year. When Morgana returned, she had been corrupted against anything good. She was different, unkind, uncaring to those around. At any turn, she used the threat of exposing Merlin’s magic to gain his silence. Time and time again this occurred, Morgana getting the better of him, like in another timeline not known. Except, Morgana knew he had magic this time around.

Through all this, Morgana still considered Merlin as a friend. He hadn’t betrayed her, so exposing his magic was never truly on her agenda. At any point, she tried to persuade Merlin to join her fight, but he wouldn’t, he couldn’t. He was more loyal to Arthur than anyone else. He felt that constantly burn within him.

Hence, when it came to it, Morgana used that and again, Merlin was enchanted to try and assassinate Arthur, to no avail. Morgana was only upset Arthur still wasn’t dead, not blaming Merlin for anything. At the end of the day she wanted him on her side.

And somehow, she never connected the dots that Merlin and Emrys were the same. It simply didn’t click.

Then, Mordred was found, and Merlin knew he was Arthur’s doom. But his note said to trust him, to befriend him, no matter what he saw in a mere vision. So, they became friends, he joked with him, he even came to like him. And Mordred never thought Merlin had any negative views on him. Even with this, everything, again, went down the same.

Kara was arrested, even though Merlin tried everything. She was given a second chance, yet, she didn’t take it. And she died, and Mordred went off to betray Merlin. Not because Merlin had done anything wrong, but because Mordred was sick of him being loyal to a man that would see them both dead.

Merlin sat in his room, mulling over the note, wondering where he went wrong. He did everything it told him to, but then events turned out the same. So, he looked to the last bit, on the other side. Plan B.

 _‘If all goes wrong and you’re stuck in a position where you have lost Arthur after a battle_ , _then you must use this spell:_

_Ic bebēode þe eftcyrran mín ingemynd æt mec_

_Only then will you know what to do_. _’_

It hurt, in a way. He didn’t know what _losing_ Arthur meant, other than death, which considering the circumstances, seemed to be the case. He sat back on his bed and tried his best to forget. Hoping.

Yet, it was hard to forget the note when Arthur was in his arms, speaking his last words, for a second time. Nothing had changed, the result was the same. And Merlin knew that something felt similar, that the pain felt similar. Like his entire self was being ripped apart piece by piece. He had felt that before, but not in that timeline.

As he was left in the lake, staring at the boat float away, he took out the note, trying his best to not get tears all over it. He unfolded it with care and skimmed over the words, glancing up to the sky.

“ _Ic bebēode þe eftcyrran mín ingemynd æt mec_ ,” he uttered a few times before he got it right, as he kept choking on the words.

At that moment, when his eyes returned to their blue colour, a searing pain pierced his skull, gnawing at his brain. He clutched onto his head, falling into the water, screaming in pain… until, it all went silent and everything stopped. Literally stopped.

“I remember…” he whispered, closing his eyes, dropping his head. “And I failed.”

But he did indeed know what to do. It was round two. Time to do things differently, again.

When he opened his eyes, after going back in time once more, he stood in front of Kilgharrah, who only shook his head.

“Old warlock, I’m guessing you saw him die, again.”

“I saw him die, yes, but if I try harder, maybe I can save him. Maybe this time, it will be different.”

“Merlin… Don’t torture yourself like this. Arthur will rise again if you only wait for him.”

“I’ve already told you, I can’t do that. I can save him, I know I can.”

Kilgharrah sighed as Merlin ran off once more. He wrote another note, with the backup plan behind it. Things were more detailed this time, stressing to the letter about what Merlin had to do. He had to be kind, but he had to ensure that Morgana couldn’t go with Morgause, at all. He had to make sure that Kara had no chance of dying.

But Morgana did go with Morgause and Kara did die, every time Merlin tried. Every. Single. Time. No matter what he did, no matter how much information he left, no matter how kind he was, the people he had come to call his _friends_ always betrayed them all in the end. Mordred, who was only a boy when it came down to it, always lost his love and always betrayed Merlin, leading to him killing Arthur. And Morgana always ended up leaving with Morgause for a year, regardless of how it happened. She always left in the end, always became corrupt, always performed multiple attacks on Camelot.

And every time Merlin regained his memories, he felt powerless. He cried in the lake each time, he screamed at the earth and went back to find Kilgharrah roaring at him, trying to make him listen. But Merlin wouldn’t listen. He kept trying, making slight adjustments which only changed the paths marginally. Sometimes Arthur’s death would be delayed by years or would come along months before it was supposed to. Nevertheless, whether significant events happened later or earlier, it ended in the same way. With Arthur dying in his arms, breathing his last words, only for Merlin.

Eventually, he had nothing left in him. A future scientist would say he was the very definition of insanity. Doing the same over and over and expecting different results. Poor Merlin, who had been destroyed again and again, who had watched the love of his life die hundreds of times. Who kept on trying no matter what, because losing Arthur was worse than any other pain. Because waiting was too much, he didn’t want to live without Arthur. It all felt pointless.

So, when Merlin went back, as he always did, to a few days before Morgana certainly knew about her magic, he fell to the ground, crying his eyes out. Kilgharrah watched him, with sullen eyes, knowing it was a torture of Merlin’s own making but knowing the extent he was willing to go. What he was willing to sacrifice just to have Arthur at his side. The tears created puddles and that’s when Kilgharrah knew it was time to speak.

“Merlin… I don’t think you can change the future from here.”

He wailed louder, letting all his anguish out. “I’ve tried and tried and tried! Nothing I do matters! He always dies!” As he spoke, his words were jumbled, yet he was loud. The pure pain that was being experienced in those minutes was heart-breaking to say the least. The tears only kept coming, his sobbing simply got louder. He was broken.

“Old warlock, I feel inclined to help you now…  The answer is obvious. You either wait for him to rise, or you do what you never have,” Kilgharrah remarked after ten minutes lagged on by.

Merlin attempted to wipe his tears away as he stood back up, yet they still ran relentlessly down his face. “What is that exactly?”

Kilgharrah hunched down on his rock. “You confess your love and you speak about your magic, but not in this time.”

“What time then?”

“A time where Arthur would consider lifting the ban on magic, only then will you both be saved.”

“The Disir… If I tell Arthur to…” His eyes lit up. “Kilgharrah, thank you. I may save Arthur yet.”

“I will see you in the future, young warlock.”

Merlin whispered the spell that he had uttered so many times and the mind Kilgharrah had been speaking to was gone, leaving a confused younger Merlin behind. Kilgharrah waited for the reaction to come, for Merlin to wonder why he was there and Kilgharrah had just the explanation.

But Merlin, the one who had been through too much, awoke in a different time, one still in the past but in the future too. His eyes were closed as he felt time constrict around him, confining him to the place he had brought himself to. As he opened them, he witnessed Arthur take down Mordred in a training session. He sighed, as he knew he was about to be blatantly ignored, so instead of clapping or doing anything at all, he went through the beginnings of the day, eventually finding time to scamper off to his chambers.

To succeed, he needed to leave himself the typical note he always left, and, to his regret, he wrote down the ‘in case this doesn’t go to plan’ plan as well. Because even though he wished for it, he felt that nothing could be done, that Arthur was doomed to die, and he was doomed to wait.

 _‘Merlin_ , _listen to this note if you do nothing else_.

 _To save Arthur from his own peril_ , _you must guide him when it comes to the Disir_.

 _You must persuade him to bring magic back to Camelot when the time comes_ , _and you must confess your feelings_.

 _Do not question why you must do this_ , _only know that you have to_ , _otherwise everything you have ever striven for_ , _will be lost_.

 _I believe you’ll do what you think is right_ , _in the end_. _But heed my words_ , _they are important_.

 _And if all goes wrong and you’re stuck in a position where you have lost Arthur after a battle_ , _then you must use this spell:_

_Ic bebēode þe eftcyrran mín ingemynd æt mec_

_Then_ , _you’ll know what to do_.

 _If it all goes right_ , _destroy this note_. _’_

Then, the whole process began again, except, in a different time. A new timeline could begin from there, but would the results be any different? Could they be? Was it possible?

For the first time in a long time, Merlin’s distrust in Mordred was back. No longer did he show kindness, no longer did he attempt to be his friend. This Merlin was the closest he could be to the original, with an added bout of knowledge. The timeline was too, for Morgana had never been taught by Merlin. Due to the way the spell worked, he could only transfer his mind to his initial memories, as the magic was too world destroying to do any different. Things were _almost_ back to normal.

And the days passed and the Disir were found and they cast their words upon Arthur, Merlin and the knights. But Mordred was injured saving Arthur and the wound was inflicted by a powerful staff, resulting in a poison coursing through his body, that only the Disir could bring remedy to.

But that would mean returning to the place so full of life, where everything was buzzing with pure energy. Radiating with magic, in a place where the Old Religion thrived. Because what else would spark such thoughts in the most powerful warlock, in magic itself?

And somehow, the two were by a fire. Arthur was resting as Merlin plonked down wood, explaining how the whole place around them was vibrating. All the while, the words of the note echoed in his head. He knew the time was dawning, that there would be a chance for everything to change and be new again. And he didn’t know it personally, but the timeline could swap direction, going to a new path, unexplored and almost unthinkable. But it was there, and it was a path that was ready for the taking.

“What would you do? In my place?” Arthur asked, bringing Merlin from his own thoughts, his own despair.

The choice the note spoke of felt wrong, surely Mordred would live if he chose magic. But then, Arthur had once – wisely – said, that betraying your beliefs would destroy everything you’ve striven for. And finally, Merlin understood, both the note and the decision he had to make. Sacrificing Mordred was not worth sacrificing magic, because lifting the ban had the possibility to make all the troubles they had disappear.

“Me? I'm just a lackey, a maker of beds,” he said, at last. Because to guide Arthur, he had to make the decision on his own. Even if he would solely rely on Merlin for his opinion on the right thing to do.

“Lackeys can be wise.” But Merlin was still too conflicted to say anything. Arthur was watching him carefully, knowing from experience that something was wrong. “It is not like you to be silent.”

“A kingdom's future is at stake.”

“And a man's life.”

“You must protect Camelot, you must protect the world you have spent your life building. A just and fair kingdom for all.”

“You would have me sacrifice a friend?”

Merlin was trying his upmost best to bite back his tears, to keep his emotions under control. He may have known what he needed to do, but he had no idea how to execute it. “I would have you become the king you are destined to be.”

Arthur leant forward, thoughts running wild in his head, trying to reach a decision. “If I do save Mordred, all my father's work will be for nothing. Sorcery will reign once more in Camelot. Is that what you'd want?”

Merlin could hardly control any of his emotions, and there were plenty trying to control _him_. From sorrow all the way to fear.

“Perhaps my father was wrong, perhaps the old ways aren't as evil as we thought. So what should we do? Accept magic? Or let Mordred die?”

Merlin let out a breathy sigh, tears were clear in his eyes. “We can’t let an innocent man die… If bringing back magic saves him, that’s what we must do.”

Arthur leant back. “What is making you want to cry?”

He shivered and brought his knees close to his chest, embracing them. “Because I’m scared. I don’t know what decision is the right one…”

“Scared of what? Sorcery reigning Camelot or something else?”

Merlin let a single tear slip, allowing it to roll down his cheek. “Do you remember when I told you a druid seer warned me that you were in danger and that the danger was close?”

“Yes… I’m still here.” Arthur raised his eyebrows, sceptical.

“He didn’t tell me. He showed me. What I saw…” He breathed deeply. “I saw Mordred kill you. And now we have a chance to let him live or die?” A shuddering shake ran through his body. “But that’s not all. I found a note, before any of this happened, warning me about the Disir, telling me that I have to persuade you to embrace magic, otherwise all will be lost.” He let all his tears fall. “I’m afraid I can’t advise you when I’m so conflicted.”

Arthur leant forward once again, more than intrigued. “Who was the note from?”

“It didn’t say… I…” Merlin closed his eyes, sighing so deeply that tears wheedled their way out merely from the vibration.

“Let me read it.”

“If I let you read the note… you must promise me not to see me any differently.”

“Any– What? Merlin– If this note is important, I should read it. I won’t see you differently.”

Merlin sighed and pulled the folded-up paper from his pocket, leaning over to pass it to Arthur. He stared as Arthur pulled the paper from itself, allowing him to the read the words. As his eyes skimmed his mouth hung open ever so slightly, his eyes widened.

He folded the paper once more, chucking it over to Merlin. Resting back, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Merlin.” His tone was like a warning.

“I– Arthur, please…”

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see his closest friend in that moment. Yet, he pushed his feelings aside. There were more pressing matters. “You do realise the person who wrote that note was yourself?”

Merlin furrowed his brow. “This isn’t my handwriting.”

“No but look at the words. The desperation towards the events that are occurring right now, the way the note has a backup plan…” He opened his eyes. “The note reminds me of how talk when you’re being wise. The Merlin who wrote that has already lost me and I’m willing to bet he came back to try and prevent it.”

“But how does that start now?”

“Because this decision decides my fate, doesn’t it?” Arthur stared at the fire. “The other Merlin chose wrong… But we’ll chose correctly, won’t we?”

“I would hope so, because I don’t want to lose you.”

He looked to Merlin. “And I don’t want to leave you.”

Merlin took a breath. “Do we listen to the note?”

Arthur nodded, with tears at his eyes. “I think we have to.”

They fell into a silence which disturbed Merlin. The piece of paper lay between them and Arthur’s brow wouldn’t stop furrowing, as if he was trying to work out everything at once.

“Are you angry with me…?” Merlin asked, knowing the note revealed so much.

“Angry? No. I’m upset you didn’t trust me.”

“I didn’t want to put you in an impossible position.”

Arthur gaped. “ _That’s_ the reason? Merlin– You should know by now, that no matter what I say, I could never let you die. Do you really believe anything else would have mattered? I would have lied to my father everyday to keep you safe. I would never uphold the laws because, it’s you.” He sighed. “I could never lose you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’d lose myself. Do you have any idea what it was like for me when you went missing, years ago? When those rocks fell–” His expression dropped. “Did you– Did you make them fall?”

Merlin glanced to the ground, eyes downcast. “I had to protect you.”

“By risking your own life?”

“Don’t pretend we both haven’t risked our lives to save and protect each other.”

Arthur rubbed at his eyes, keeping the tears within at bay. “Then, can we stop pretending our feelings don’t exist?”

“Nothing could come of it, even if we spoke about it.”

“Who’s to say… that we can’t?” He shook his head. “I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you…”

Merlin closed his eyes, scrunching them shut, hoping the intensity of the conversation would calm so that he could dispel his tears. “And I you.”

“Why must we always ignore it?”

“Because it hurts too much to admit when we can never be together…”

“I want to…”

“You’re married to Gwen.”

Arthur stood up and bridged the gap between them, sitting down next to Merlin. “While that may be true, the marriage is well within its rights to be annulled.”

Merlin’s eyebrows knitted. “How so?”

“It has yet to be consummated.”

“Really?”

“Really…” Arthur sighed. “After I couldn’t… Gwen figured out the reason why – my feelings for you. Ever since, she has tried to persuade me to confess to you… But I was too scared.”

“Until today.”

“Mm, I’m still scared.” Arthur leant against Merlin ever so slightly, letting out another sigh. “Gwen has been kind about it all, considering she too is trapped in the marriage.”

Merlin grasped Arthur’s hand. “We’ll figure it out.”

Dawn came quicker than anything. The two stood side by side, in front of the Disir, ready for them to decide Arthur’s fate. As they moved slightly, bearing down on them, Merlin held Arthur’s hand, adding comfort to the mix. Arthur glanced at him, giving a warm smile.

“You have returned.”

“Is your decision made?”

“It is.” Arthur took a breath. “I will embrace magic and the Old Religion.”

“Then you have saved your kingdom and its people.”

“You have saved yourself.”

“You will _live_.”

“With your dearest at your side.”

“Your fate is sealed.”

“Farewell, Arthur Pendragon.”

With that, the two got the hell out of there as quickly as possible. The Disir were terrifying at the least. And while they left, Arthur felt a twinge of what Merlin had been talking about. That place was full of life. It truly was.

As the two trotted towards Camelot, silence had fallen between them once again. There wasn’t much to say while they were out in the open, where anyone could see or hear.

“How does saving Mordred save me?” Arthur asked, tightly grasping at the reins.

“I wish I knew… But if your intuition about the note is correct, then we’ve made the right decision.”

“And if we haven’t?”

“We won’t know until we know.”

Arthur’s mouth quirked upwards. “Okay...”

They rode into Camelot, but the people around them in the courtyard were downtrodden. Something was affecting them, making them upset. Both Merlin and Arthur climbed down from their horses, looking around, confused. Of course, that was when Gaius came up to them, frowning in every respect.

“What is it, Gaius?” Arthur was quick to ask, glancing to Merlin.

“Mordred took a turn for the worst a few hours ago. I regret to say that he is on the brink of death.”

Arthur took a step back, pulling his eyebrows together. He looked to Merlin, whose eyes were wide. “What have we done…?”

Merlin ducked his head. “We saved your life.”

Gaius arched an eyebrow, judging. “What _did_ you do?”

“The Disir tricked us,” Arthur said. “Gaius, I think we both require your advice.”

Since Gaius’s chambers had a dying Mordred within, the three of them talked in Arthur’s room. While Merlin sat, with his head in his hands, Arthur paced. Gaius stood by the door, sighing at the two. They had made the right decision, according to the note from a Merlin who had all his memories, but that decision felt wrong when they had truly condemned a man to death.

“I believe Mordred is close to death because of your decision, Sire. If you lift the ban, I’m certain he will die.”

Arthur stopped in his tracks, holding his breath. “Do you think there’s a time limit?”

“Most likely.”

“Then we mustn’t delay.”

Merlin rose his head, to look at Arthur. “You’ll still go through with it?”

A fond yet sorrow smile appeared upon Arthur’s lips. “I want to live at your side and I want you to be you at all times, the entire you. If that means letting Mordred die… then we are stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

Merlin reached out for Arthur, forgetting that Gaius stood, watching them. It all mattered so much. “I’ll be at your side, every step of the way.”

Arthur placed his hand in Merlin’s, lightly holding. “Thank you.”

“Is there anything else you require from me, my lord?” Gaius asked, which startled the two, making them jump, yet they didn’t let go of their hold.

“How soon can we lift the ban?”

“I’d say a week, if you’re persistent with the council.”

“Thank you, Gaius, that will be all.”

Gaius gave a nod and slunk out the room. The two really were in a difficult position, Gaius knew that. But he couldn’t help but feel responsible, in a way. What he felt responsible for, however, was a story for another day.

Merlin let out a small sigh. “No one else can know what we have done.”

Arthur sat in the chair next to Merlin, never letting go of his hand. Because he finally had the permission to do so and nothing could get in the way of that. “No… But we’ll have to learn to live with this.”

“It’s worth saving your life over.”

“I hope that’s true.” He leant closer, resting his forehead against Merlin’s, squeezing his hand. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

At that moment, Gwen came urgently into the room, but once she saw the two, she knew what had happened, at long last. Arthur pulled away from Merlin, looking to Gwen, his eyes filling with tears as the seconds passed.

“I’m glad you’re both back safe…” she said, observing as Arthur hadn’t let go of Merlin’s hand. He hadn’t done anything to break the hold, even though she was right there. That in itself spoke volumes.

“Gwen…”

“If you think I’m upset, I’m not. I will set in motion the plans to annul our marriage. I’ve been preparing for this day for years. I won’t impede your happiness, I cannot do that to you.” She nodded to the both of them and left the room.

Arthur covered his eyes with his hand. He wished it didn’t burn so much to know he had hurt Gwen, despite the fact that she endorsed it. “She has plans…”

Merlin took Arthur’s hand away from his eyes, holding it softly, giving him a comforting, sympathetic smile. “I believe she let you go a long time ago.”

The following day, Arthur stood in the council chamber, with Merlin at his side, and the council all around, including Gwen and Gaius. The majority stared him down as he said he would be lifting the ban, while some only smiled. Suddenly, Arthur was glad for the alterations he made to the council a few years back. Gwen, on the other hand, stared at Merlin, piecing together the suspicions she’d had for years. And Gaius just sat there, watching everyone carefully.

“Legalising magic?! Are you quite mad, my lord?!” one member roared, glancing up and down the table.

“Mad? No. You have all seen how many innocents have died to the laws. People who were healing their loved ones paying the ultimate price. People who were trying to live their lives, being burnt for existing.” Arthur grinded his teeth. It felt personal, the whole thing. Merlin had magic, he would defend it till the end of time. Although, could there be more to it? “It isn’t fair.”

Another member – who was younger than the rest and clearly hadn’t been on Uther’s council – glared at the defiant members with old, harsh views. “Don’t you see? The king is right. So many have been lost due to this war on magic. What does it achieve, other than angering powerful people that could so easily level our entire city?”

Gwen smiled sweetly. “That’s the right idea. Renegade sorcerers are more often than not, terrified people. They only want to live. We’ll save many lives on either side this way.”

A few people sparked up in a murmur, a few eyebrows were raised and a few nodded and smiled. Truly, the council was coming around to the idea. But some needed to be spurred on, and Arthur needed their approval otherwise changing the law would be too difficult.

One member sat up straight in his chair, narrowing his eyes at Arthur. “What could have possibly changed your mind?”

“This has been on my mind for years now and I have never been like my father. I want sorcerers to be free, because so many live in fear. They do not deserve to be hunted for who they are. And it isn’t as if the law has done anything but get innocent people executed. Magic has always slipped through the cracks regardless. It’s time to end an era of hatred and fear.”

The member shook his head. “No. My lord, you were raised well by your father. You hated magic, the same as any of us do. This doesn’t make sense.”

“Did it make sense when my father drowned children? Burnt adolescents? Killed anyone that was even _mildly_ suspected to be a sorcerer, even when there was no proof?” Arthur’s tone was sharp enough to cause a few gasps.

“Well, I mean–”

“Were you just about to justify the murders of children, Adwr?”

Adwr’s eyebrows shot up. “I… You’re right, Sire. It made no sense then, nor would it make sense now. Killing people for existing is not right, no matter the laws or situations.

Arthur gave a nod, while the remaining people who opposed shrunk into themselves, knowing their argument was futile. Instead, murmurs consumed the room. Arthur glanced to Gaius, who arched an eyebrow, indicating with a slight smile that _this_ had the ability to work.

“And would there be any restrictions?” Adwr asked, after the whispers became silence.

“Magic itself should not be banned, but dark magic should. We have all seen the devastation it brings. It can do no good. Other magic can, however. If a sorcerer commits a crime, using their magic, they should be treated in the same way as a person who commits a similar crime, without the use of magic.”

“Then, my lord, we’ll start writing up the new laws.”

As Merlin and Arthur entered Arthur’s chambers, Arthur travelled to his desk while Merlin only sighed and used the table to steady himself. So much was going on, so much was happening all at once.

“I’ve dreamt– I’ve dreamt so much of this day and yet, I’m filled with sadness instead of happiness.”

Arthur looked up from where he was signing a few papers. “We’re doing the right thing, Merlin.”

“Are we? We’re ensuring Mordred’s death.”

“You said it yourself, Mordred is destined to kill me. Maybe this is the only way.”

Merlin closed his eyes, leaning fully on the table. “I wish it wasn’t.”

“Besides,” Arthur began, standing up from his desk, moving across the room, “I don’t want you to sacrifice everything that you are to save the life of a man who would kill me in the end.” He arrived by Merlin’s side, rubbing his back.

He shuddered, leaning into Arthur’s touch for the comfort. “The Great Dragon– Kilgharrah, did tell me that if I had opportunity to let Mordred die, then I should take it.”

Arthur’s brow creased, his hand stilled. “Of course you saved the dragon.”

“Is now a good time to mention that I’m a dragonlord?” Merlin wondered, smiling at Arthur.

“You are a man of mystery…” He smiled. “What else has Kilgharrah told you?”

“That we are two sides of the same coin, that we are two halves that make each other whole… That our paths lie together. That I have a hand in helping you unite the lands of Albion and to bring magic back.”

“We’re soulmates?”

Merlin turned so that he could place his hands on Arthur’s arms. “I think we were born solely for each other.”

“That’s… magical.” Arthur smiled and inched forward, lightly pressing his lips upon Merlin’s.

At first, they allowed it to be slow and gentle, letting them both settle in for something that they had both wanted for years upon years. It was only when Arthur slunk his arms around Merlin’s waist and when Merlin’s hands reached Arthur’s neck, that something changed. Yes, there was passion and desire and everything they had ever wanted spilling out, but there was a feeling that was more than just love. As if all the magic around them was collecting to watch, to cheer them on.

A spark came between their lips.

As in, a literal spark.

“Ah!” Merlin winced, pulling away from Arthur. “Did you feel that? Felt like–”

“Embers?”

“Yes… What was that?”

Both Merlin and Arthur stared at one another, still holding each other, confused as all ought. Their wide eyes told as much. And Merlin was sure he saw a tint (the slightest tint) of gold in Arthur’s eyes.

“I don’t know… Could it have been your magic?”

“No. I would have felt it do something.” He pressed his lips into a thin line, thinking. “You can feel your eyes change colour, it stings a bit.”

“Doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“It becomes comforting. Well, it did for me.”

“As much as I would love to kiss you again…” Arthur trailed off, using the small space he had to drop his head.

Merlin cupped his cheek. “With everything that is going on, waiting is alright. And the sparking thing scared me too.”

He glanced up, a small smile lay at his lips. “Can we sit? I wouldn’t mind you telling me about your magic, and everything you’ve done.”

“I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Feriġe mec hrycg.” – Take me back  
> “Ic bebēode þe eftcyrran mín ingemynd æt mec.” – I command you to return my memories to me.  
> “Geleáfa þes dæg ond beforan, ānim sé tóweardnes.” – Leave this day and before, remove the future to come.


	2. Laws Change

“Born with it…” Arthur repeated, staring at Merlin.

They had moved two chairs up to the fire and sat there, facing each other. Merlin was fidgeting, trying to get his words all right for the long conversation to follow. He was already inventing jokes to go along with the harshness of each story. Including the important, life changing events, never mind the little adventures no one remembered.

“Could move objects before I could talk.” Merlin smiled fondly. “I accidentally fell a tree once. Almost flattened Old Man Simmons, who was such a grumpy man.”

Arthur snorted. “Poor man. Imagine, going about your day and–” He clapped his hands together. “A tree almost kills you.”

“I think that incident was why my mother sent me here.”

“To Gaius?”

Merlin nodded, somewhat wishing he had something to fiddle with. “Gaius has taught me many things over the years.”

“I’m glad.” Arthur playfully kicked Merlin’s foot. “Come on, tell me about what you did on our adventures.”

“Our _adventures_ …” He tapped his chin. “Hmm… I’d like to call them life threatening excursions.”

“ _Mer_ lin.”

“Okay!” He raised his hands in a mock defeat. “Remember the maces?”

Arthur sat back in his chair, reflecting on that day. It felt like a lifetime ago. He was so different from that boy now. “I’m not sure what I was thinking on that day.”

“You were thinking that my pathetic excuse for flirting was vile enough to want to take my head off with a spiky ball.”

“ _Ahh_ , yes. The meanings behind our words…” He snorted once again. “I asked if you knew how to walk on your knees!”

“Not only that, you asked if I wanted you to help me. Then! You asked the next day how it had been coming along.” Merlin grinned, though, he couldn’t hold it for long, bursting into a fit of giggles.

“Don’t forget, _I can take you apart with one blow_.”

“I can take you apart with less than that.” Merlin winked, while Arthur chuckled away.

As the two calmed, Merlin remembered why he had initially brought up the maces as a topic. “I cheated, with that fight.”

Arthur smirked. “I still won.”

“Eh, I was too cocky.”

“I knew then… when I got the guards off your back, that you were someone special. Someone to keep an eye on, to never let go of. Those first feelings, that _instinct_ , must have come from us being soulmates.”

“I think it was my sheer instinct when I saved your life in those first days that made me realise the same.”

Arthur smiled, a new bout of affection washing over him. “Did you use magic then?”

“I slowed down time to reach you.”

“Ah, so even time bows to your will?”

“My magic is very powerful. More so now, as I knew few spells in those days.”

“How powerful are you?”

“I’m said to be the most powerful warlock to ever walk the earth.”

“It’s funny… You can be so clumsy when it comes down to it, but you _are_ powerful. Now that I know, I can feel it in my heart.”

Merlin tilted his head. “You can feel my power?”

“Must be the soulmate thing.”

He looked to Arthur with quizzical eyes. “Must be…” He was almost sure he could see the gold once again.

Laughter filled the room swiftly after, as Merlin used the best of his humour to go through all their adventures. From how he dealt with Knight Valiant’s snakes, to what _really_ happened with Sophia. He went through, in detail, on how Excalibur was made and what power it truly held, as well as mentioning who really used magic in Ealdor. One by one, every single event was covered. Arthur tried his hardest to count how many times Merlin had saved his life but lost count on the story of the Witchfinder as, for the umpteenth time, Arthur was a little mad at what Merlin would risk.

“That was _you_?!”

“Sometimes… I need to let my magic flow. It had been a while, I thought no one was there.” Merlin sighed and traced the patterns on the chair. “It was harmless but any magic strikes fear in the people.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it…” Arthur stared into space. “You could have gotten yourself killed then… Aredian suspected you!”

“He did… Gaius said that he planned to get me and Morgana on the pyre too.” Through the sadness of the memory, Merlin smiled. “I knew he was framing us, so I planted evidence. I also placed the toad in his throat.”

“You–” Arthur shook his head, smiling. “The poor toad.”

“I know. To think, being in the throat of an evil man.”

Giggles and laughter echoed in the room once more. The two happily reminisced about the troll. Still the memory allowed them to lose all control of their senses and made them laugh for a good ten minutes straight.

“I wanted you to get out of Camelot,” Arthur reminded himself, knowing deep down what his motive was.

“You still believed she was Catrina then. Why did you want to get me out?”

“So that you wouldn’t be arrested, or worse. I think I knew you hadn’t stolen anything, but it was more important you left.”

“Blind devotion?”

“It wasn’t blind… Well… From the knowledge I knew then, maybe it was.” He shrugged. “What came next?”

“I… Morgause.”

“Oh…” Arthur shifted in his chair. “It was true, wasn’t it? What my mother told me.”

“Not entirely. I’m still unsure whether the Ygraine we saw was her true spirit… But Uther didn’t know Ygraine’s life would be sacrificed for yours. He blamed Nimueh and magic because he believed she knew, but she didn’t either.”

Arthur covered his eyes with his hand. “It was guilt… all guilt.”

Merlin watched as Arthur attempted to shroud his feelings on the matter, hiding behind the many walls he had built up over the years. “Arthur… you don’t have to hide your emotions from me.”

It wasn’t easy to move past his years of putting a brave face on, but he was prepared to, especially for Merlin. Thus, he – reluctantly – moved his hand from his eyes, revealing that they were chockfull of tears. “My mother died because my fath– because _Uther_ was too foolish and didn’t understand any of the implications. He should have died that day, not my mother.”

Merlin reached over and took Arthur’s hand into his own. “It was unfair and terrible…”

“I’m glad I know the truth.” He hung his head. “All those people… that died… because of _him_. Even Nimueh died because of his actions.”

“I was the one who killed her.” He grimaced. It wasn’t his proudest hour, or days. He could never get over the feeling that Nimueh wasn’t meant to die like that.

“You did, but she became bitter over the years, revengeful. I’d hate to think all she lost. All everyone lost.” Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hand. “You’ve lost people too, because of his ban, haven’t you?”

“Yes, my father. He was the one who brought Kilgharrah to Camelot, as he believed Uther wanted to make peace with him. Instead, he imprisoned him and slaughtered all the dragonlords. My father only escaped because Gaius helped him and sent him to Ealdor…”

“Balinor… God, Merlin, I’m so sorry.”

He let out a breath of pure sorrow. “Because of his death, I’m the last dragonlord.”

“I’m sorry…”

Merlin shook his head and instead moved back into the stories. It was harder and harder to insert jokes as the stories only got worse or sadder. He spoke of Freya and her curse, of the love spell that Vivian still wasn’t cured from, of how he betrayed Morgana. The full story of what happened with Kilgharrah was told, as well as what Morgana’s return really entailed. He was glad when he could talk about the humour of the goblin and they both laughed about how they met Gwaine. It was straight back to a sullen mood when it came to Merlin telling Arthur about the crystals and how he helped to make what he saw happen.

And they kept going like that. Remembering the good times amongst the bad, as the mood of the room was starting to cause too many sighs and tracks of tears on their faces. They laughed and allowed themselves to cry. It was good for the both of them.

Eventually, they got to the point they were at now. The story of the Disir. That would be another miserable one they would regret to have within their memories. But they knew the events that were unfolding before them were important and had to be remembered, for both their sakes. They had to accept what they were going to do.

A knock boomed through the door and the two looked towards it, sighing. They had managed to talk for hours, causing the evening to be in full burst. With that, the two were hungry and certainly needed something to eat, but someone was at the door.

“Get us some dinner,” Arthur said.

Merlin got up from his chair, opening the door. Gwen stood behind it, all regal yet sombre. Merlin nodded to her before ducking out of the room, on his way to kitchen. Arthur stood from his seat, swaying on his feet, facing Gwen with a frown.

“I’ve come to tell you about the plans,” she said, with her hands placed in front of her, standing like none of it was affecting her.

Arthur gestured to the chairs and they both sat. “What do they include?”

“Because the marriage has not been consummated, in the eyes of the council and the laws, we are not married. Because of my history, the fact that you’re in love with someone else and the lack of a royal baby, the council agreed that the marriage should be annulled so that we can both find peace with another.”

“They agreed?” His eyes dipped as he drew in a breath.

“They did. Everyone knows this is in all our interests. The rumours get worse with every passing day.”

“They don’t get worse, they just get closer to the truth… You’re a strong queen, the people know that but–”

“But you cannot be with someone you do not love. It’s one of your main philosophies.”

Arthur swiftly looked to Gwen with solemn eyes. “I do love you, Guinevere… In a way.”

“As a friend, I should think.” She faintly smiled. “Your love for Merlin has become clearer recently. The more you allow yourself to show emotion, the more your love shines through.”

“I always knew… I only couldn’t say.”

“But you’ve confessed now.”

A smiled pulled at Arthur lips, slow and gentle. “I have…”

“You’re happy?”

“Yes… Will you be?”

“In time.”

“You will always have a place on the council, Guinevere. I value your advice.”

Gwen smiled. “I could advise you all day long, but you only ever listen to Merlin, in the end.”

“That’s not… true.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is it not?”

“Perhaps it is.” He drew in a breath. “Still.”

“I would love to be on the council, Arthur. Thank you.”

Later, after Gwen had vacated Arthur’s room, Merlin returned with dinner and the two ate. They brought up more topics of their adventures, mainly with Arthur splitting his sides over Dragoon and how ridiculous it was. Merlin sat there, waiting for the laughter to be over with.

“The things you called my father! Brilliant Merlin, what a perfect way to vent your anger.” He wiped tears from his eyes.

“I nearly burnt for all my trouble.”

“Yes, but you didn’t. Let me laugh.”

“I’m letting you.” Merlin waved his hand vaguely. “I’m sitting here and I’m letting you.”

Arthur suddenly came back to himself and placed his hand atop Merlin’s. “You know, I’m glad I know. Not only does my life make sense, but it feels whole. I can fathom you out.”

Merlin chuckled lightly. “And what have you fathomed?”

“That you risk a lot for little in return, yet you don’t care because nothing is worth as much as protecting those who you love. You can be oblivious and can be a bit of an idiot at times, but you are wise and know more than I can ever imagine. You’re ruthless when it comes to protecting people, and you will sacrifice your life as long as it means those around you live. But you’re clumsy and funny, kind and genuine, because with all the power you have, you’ll always be Merlin, not whatever the Druids or other magical beings call you or see in you. You’re Merlin, and that’s all any of us– that’s all _I_ need from you. For you to be yourself, truly.”

He sat back in his chair, in surprise. “That was quite the speech.”

Arthur smiled. “Anything I missed?”

“You forgot that I’m a useless manservant.”

“Best useless manservant I’ve ever had.”

Merlin readied Arthur for bed and the two did their usual nightly routines. Arthur tried to persuade Merlin to stay but he insisted that, at least for that particular night, he had to go. Which was entirely fine. With the mystery of the sparking kiss, the sorrow that hung over them to do with their actions and the fact that this was all _new_ (timeline wise and feelings wise), it was to be expected.

Gaius looked up from the herbs he was crushing, a relaxing night time activity for him, to see Merlin sullenly walk through the door. On his way down, it was hard not to let the reality of everything hit him at once and crush him.

“Where’s Mordred?” he asked as his eyes scanned the room.

“We moved him to his own chambers. Everyone knows I can do nothing to save him, so we agreed it was best to let him die in his own space.”

Merlin shuddered. “I can’t believe… all of this… is happening.”

“You were the one who wanted him dead…” Gaius said with the softest tone. He hardly wanted to drudge up the topic, but he hoped, in a roundabout way, that it would help Merlin through this.

“But that’s just it! Arthur and I _agreed_ that embracing magic was the right thing to do. _That_ was supposed to save Mordred. Now, we’re killing him.”

“There is nothing that can be done. Say you didn’t legalise magic, what then? Mordred might recover and wake, which might lead to Arthur’s death.” He stopped what he was doing and approached Merlin. “My boy, whatever you may think, you and Arthur made this decision _together_. Isn’t that what your two destinies are about? Being intertwined?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t fret, as I am sure Arthur’s death is far from us.”

Merlin stared at Gaius, feeling deep within that he knew more than he was letting on. Way more. Like he had been warning Merlin on the Disir because he knew what the judgement entailed, to a certain extent.

With that said, Gaius stepped back towards the herbs he had been grinding. “Can I see the note?” he asked with such an interest in his tone that it only made Merlin ponder further.

“Uh, sure, why?” Merlin went to retrieve the terrifying piece of paper while his suspicions of Gaius grew.

“I’m curious. Arthur did mention that he thought a version of you had written it.”

“Hm, I still wonder about that,” he said, handing over the note.

As Gaius gave it a good read, Merlin looked over all the medicines that had been set out for delivery the next day. Soon, Gaius took to a pile of books, his hand skittered over them until it rested on the one he needed, pulling it out. He skipped over the pages, finding a piece of parchment in the middle of the book.

“What is it?” Merlin moved to his side, wondering, but Gaius closed the book before he could see in.

“I knew it,” he murmured, though, Merlin didn’t hear him. He collected himself, getting ready to tell Merlin the bare minimum. “I could be wrong… but this spell… It returns memories to whoever uses it. I fear Arthur may be right.”

“Why do you fear?”

“Because you may not be the Merlin we know.”

“What do you mean? I am me.”

Gaius looked to Merlin, his expression full of concern. “If a future Merlin returned to this time, to leave a note… the simplest way to do so, is to focus on a memory to transfer your mind to the past. Your body is the original, but your mind is not. It’s likely that your other version wiped his memories, leaving you with the note. I would dread to think what all your memories would reveal to you.”

Merlin steadied himself on the table. “If that’s the case… burn the note. I never want to know what pain caused me to come back…”

Gaius handed Merlin the note. “You should do it. To say goodbye to a life you will never know.”

He started at it, taking in the last of the words. “ _Onæle_ ,” he uttered as the note burst into a small flame at the top corners, burning it from the top down. Merlin threw it into the air, and in doing so, the fire consumed the note completely, letting ashes drop to the ground.

“Do you believe you have saved him?”

“Mordred is dying. I have to believe Arthur is safe, for now.”

The next day was bright and ripe with opportunity, and Arthur knew his council needed a nudge – a slight one – but a nudge to make them wholeheartedly approve that lifting the ban was not a foolish idea. There also happened to be the matter of his marriage to Gwen, which made a few members scowl, as breaking a union like that was not to be taken lightly. Everyone was in the same positions as the day before, except with the addition of Leon and the absence of Merlin.

“Are we sure lifting the ban will be right? We could always make adjustments to the law. For example, the punishment doesn’t always have to be death.” Adwr said, backtracking on his stance, still wanting to keep the ban in place.

Arthur sighed. “I didn’t think I’d have to drudge it up… but do any of you know the truth about my mother?”

All members and Leon shook their heads. Gaius remained blank and Gwen looked to Arthur sympathetically, not knowing what the truth was, but noticing the pain in his eyes.

“My father begged a High Priestess of the Old Religion to make my mother able to conceive, as she was barren. He was warned that a life would be taken to restore balance to the world, but he didn’t listen, instead he proceeded. Because of his actions, my mother died. And his grief made him mad, mad enough to start the Great Purge. Tell me why a law that was born out of guilt should be upheld!” His eyes flashed with anger and all the members around, Gwen and Leon included, flinched, shock swiftly taking over them. Wide eyes, gaping mouths, raised eyebrows. Even gasps filled the air.

“And you’re certain that is the truth? Who is your source?”

Arthur’s eyes flicked to the bottom of the table. “Gaius?”

Everyone turned to him, awaiting his response.

“I can confirm it is the truth. Uther sent me personally to ask Nimueh.”

Adwr placed a hand over his chest as he noted the reactions of the other members. “Then, I think the council can agree that both lifting the ban on magic and dissolving your marriage to Guinevere, are for everyone’s benefits.” The other members nodded along. “We all know that an unhappy, merciless king makes for a bad one, so we can be assured that these decisions will keep the confidence of the people.”

“And I can guarantee that the knights will follow you no matter what you chose, Sire. None of us will go against either,” Leon said, still in vast amounts of shock.

“So, that’s it?” Arthur asked. “All agree?”

“I believe we do,” Gwen said, casting a good glance down the table, to see everyone nod or murmur in agreement.

Arthur stood from his chair. “Then that will be all for today. Once overmorrow comes, the law will be new.”

The council bowed their heads to Arthur, muttered ‘Sire’ and made their way out. Only Gwen, Gaius and Leon lagged behind. Leon gestured to Arthur, letting him know he’d be outside, while Gaius made his way over, to say his peace.

“I admire what you’re doing, Sire.”

A small smile appeared on his lips. “You’ll be able to heal people properly again.”

“I’m afraid I’m a bit out of practice.” Gaius faintly smiled but Arthur beamed back with surety, knowing Gaius would do fine.

“I also want you to invite Alice back. What happened to her… I know it wasn’t her fault.”

This time, he smiled brightly. “Thank you.”

As Gaius left the council room, Gwen approached Arthur’s side, with a soft smile.

“The papers shall be drawn up by the end of the day. Tomorrow, we’ll have to make the announcement,” she said.

“Gwen– I–”

“Arthur, I can feel that you are happy and that is all I wish for. I believe our love wasn’t built to last. Even when we married, I feel you did so because you felt you must. What I did– I think I did love you…” She trailed off, as the subject was sensitive. She didn’t want to push too hard when she already knew Arthur’s emotions were like glass, see through and fragile.

“Just not in the same way?” he supplied. He was well aware that Gwen had loved Lancelot far deeper than she could love for anyone else. And he himself was fully aware that his love for Merlin was so deep and rich and fulfilling that he could never let it go.

“Exactly that… We married when our love was still broken, and we could never get past that. Our trust, while present, was never the same as it was before.” While tears pricked her eyes, she smiled. “But when I see you with Merlin, that is a true, pure, absolute trust there. You would risk everything in a heartbeat for him. In fact, you told me yourself you wished you could be on a farm with him. I know when it comes to you two, it has always been about being yourself. To Merlin, you’re only Arthur. To you, he’s only Merlin. There is nothing stronger than that when it comes to love.”

Arthur nodded with gratitude. “Those are the words I could never say better myself…”

Gwen smiled once more before making her leave.

Next up was Leon. It was strange. What could Leon possibly want? Was he coming as a friend or a knight? Who knew? Regardless of his thoughts, Arthur approached the wall Leon was at.

“Leon.”

“Arthur.” He sighed. “Mordred is slipping away from us. I was wondering why you and Merlin haven’t visited his quarters yet. Every other knight and servant has. Mordred is well liked.”

“I know how well liked he is… It is more out of guilt for why Merlin and I cannot visit.”

“This has to do with you changing the law, doesn’t it?” Leon wondered, staring at Arthur. “Only, Mordred got worse once you returned from the Disir.”

“This has everything to do with changing the law. The Disir made us believe Mordred would be saved if we made magic legal once more.”

“And yet he gets worse. You know, don’t you? Legalising magic _will_ kill him.”

“We believe so.”

“Then why do it?! One of your knights, someone you _trust_ , is going to die because of something you’re doing. His blood will be on your hands.”

Arthur clenched his jaw. “Don’t you think I know that?! But this is bigger than one person now, this is bigger than us all. Lifting the ban not only means magic will be back, it will save the lives of many sorcerers.”

“No. This is more than your love for your people… _Sire_.” For once, the way Leon had said the address was not out of respect, rather distaste. “This is about you and Merlin somehow.”

“If Mordred lives, I die. It’s as simple as that.”

“Mordred would never hurt a hair on your head!”

“Leon, I _have_ to lift the ban now. Not for me, but for the people. You will understand one day why this must be so.”

Arthur turned to go, but Leon caught his arm, stilling him. “I don’t want to be against you, but tell me, why must he die?”

 _Dammit_. He had no choice now, he had to speak the truth. So, he stared forward, not regarding his most trusted, loyal and longest standing knight. “You must promise not to tell another soul.”

Releasing Arthur from his hold, Leon schooled his emotions back, ready to listen. “I promise.”

“Merlin was shown a vision of the future, by a druid seer. In fact, the seer’s power of prophecy is unrivalled even by someone like Morgana. The vision showed me dying to Mordred’s hand. It is likely this event will come to pass if not for…” He trailed off, shaking his head. Finally, he turned back to Leon, allowing him to see the regret in his eyes.

“How do you know that what Merlin saw is the truth?”

“Because I trust in the power of a seer. I wouldn’t be alive today if it had not been for Morgana’s visions.”

“Back when she wasn’t corrupted against all goodness?”

“Yes. If only we knew they were visions then. I would have heeded her warnings sooner, on many different occasions.”

Leon sighed, conflicted. “I see that you are torn, Arthur. That this decision does not come easy. So, I’m telling you, as a friend, I understand, but I wish it wasn’t so.”

“I’m glad you understand… I would never make a decision like this lightly; I would never _want_ to condemn a man to death without good reason.”

“Do you believe he has already betrayed you?”

“I don’t know and right now, I don’t think we should smear his name. He saved his king and will die due to it. For most, that would be an honour.”

It came to a point where a contract was signed, a law was written up and signed, and Arthur and Gwen stood upon the terrace, addressing the people of Camelot that stood in the courtyard. The quickest way for word to spread. There was an unusual gap between Gwen and Arthur, indicating silently to the people what they were about to announce.

“Because of certain circumstances, the marriage between me and Guinevere can no longer continue. I can’t and won’t go into to detail, but from this day forth, Camelot will only have a king and no queen. Spread the word, but keep in mind, we are good friends and there is no hurt. Do not spread unnecessary rumours for you will find out soon enough why this marriage was not as strong as you thought.”

The crowds whispered amongst themselves as Arthur immediately vacated the balcony and briskly walked down the corridor, eventually leaning against the wall and covering his mouth, willing himself not to be sick. He didn’t have the stomach for all this. Everything happening at once. Knowing the people would think Camelot, would think _him_ weak for not trying harder with his _queen_. Gwen was perfect, she was loved by the people, she was strong, but he did not love her, and she did not love him, and they hadn’t for a long time. It was mutual, it was needed, and it was perfectly within the law, for a marriage that had not be consummated was not a marriage at all.

Gwen approached him and rubbed his back smoothly. “Everything is alright, Arthur. The people will think no differently of you. They will think you strong for ending a marriage that never worked. It was only ever a union of close friends, not love. And I’m so, so glad you have stopped lying to yourself. If nothing else, I’m proud of you.”

And those words, they were what Arthur needed. Out and out _permission_ and reassurance. He was allowed to be himself, he was allowed that. He knew he was allowed that. Merlin was his love, his true love. His destiny, soulmate. His very being. He could _feel_ as much. Ever since he told the Disir he would embrace magic, he could sense so much around him. The way he felt something brewing inside, that he could sense and feel the power within Merlin. It scared him while it comforted him. Something was different, but it was true, it was right, it was everything.

Being himself started here, somehow. Amongst the confessions, the love, the undoing of the evils his father’s reign brought, something else lay within. Like it was waiting to burst from him, to show him everything. To be everything that he was. To wind into him, to bind him to himself. Like he had been missing a piece – other than his _literal other half –_ for all his life. Like there was something missing he could finally feel, a void.

But all that didn’t matter, for night was swiftly approaching and Merlin was in his chambers, tending to his sheets, his clothes, his armour and everything else he did for his nightly routine. He sat at his desk, staring at a copy of the official law. The law that would make Merlin and all his people free.

“Stay with me tonight,” Arthur said, as he stood, looking out the window. “I need you close. Tomorrow is a big day.”

“Are you scared?” Merlin approached him. “For Mordred, I mean.”

“Maybe he’ll be as right as rain tomorrow. Maybe all this prevents the future you saw happening anyway.”

“We both know that won’t happen… The note.”

“I know…” His head dropped. “For once, I want to be selfish… It’s wrong but…” He broke off, unable to justify it.

Merlin placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, gripping lightly. “It’s not wrong. I’ve done selfish things to keep you alive. I’ve left many a battlefield I can stealthily flatten, to get you out. Left people to die because you were more important.”

“The things you’d risk… for the people you love...”

“Exactly.”

The two, at some point, had made it to Arthur’s bed, dressed in their nightclothes. Though, the ones Merlin was wearing were Arthur’s spares. He lay upon Arthur’s chest while Arthur played with his hair, appreciating the silence. They needed that. To think. To rest and relax. To let the night slip from them so that a new day, a new dawn, a new era could begin.

“When do you think it will be safe to kiss again?” Merlin wondered, craning his neck to look at Arthur.

“When we’re grey and old,” he quipped, chuckling. Merlin laughed too but the reality of their first kiss had too much of a thick tension about it to laugh for long. “I don’t know, really… I’ve never experienced _that_ before.”

“Neither have I.”

“A kiss shouldn’t spark, it shouldn’t feel like a roaring fire touched your lips…”

“What if… it’s because we’re bound to one another, through destiny. Perhaps it’s so strong that, something like a kiss would cause something to change in the fabric of magic. It is all around us after all.”

“Do you think that’s it?”

“It seems so.”

“Then I’ll accept that as the truth and hope our second kiss has less _actual_ fire about it.”

“Or, maybe a second kiss will burn us.”

Arthur tried his best to elbow Merlin. “Don’t say that. I’d rather my lips stay in one piece.”

And with that, the two softly chuckled themselves to sleep. Gravitating towards each other more so during the night. Cuddling into one another, as close as one can be. Heeding warmth from the other, being true to one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spells:  
> “Onæle.” – To set fire to/burn consume


	3. Born With It

When the morning came, Arthur’s eyes struggled to open, as he felt a sting behind them. But when they did, he jolted slightly at what he saw in front of him. A floating goblet. He nudged Merlin and shook his shoulder a bit, trying to wake him.

“Merlin…!”

Merlin jolted up and rubbed at his groggy eyes, allowing them to open. “Wha– Oh.” He stared at the goblet and furrowed his brow. “I’m not doing that.”

“Then who is?”

“You are…”

Arthur swiftly looked to Merlin. His eyes were lit up with the magical gold, completely consuming any of the blue that normally lay within. “Me…?”

“Your eyes are golden, sparkling.” He placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Relax, breathe.”

Arthur closed his eyes and did as he was told. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Calming himself. The clanging sound of the goblet falling was what startled Arthur out of his breathing. He drew his knees to his chest and his eyes fluttered shut.

“Arthur…”

“I don’t understand… What is this…?”

“I don’t know. Has this ever happened before?”

“No, never.” He shivered. “Why now?”

“I wish I knew… But if anyone knows, it will be Gaius.” Merlin hopped of the bed and got to sorting out their clothes.

“Merlin…?”

“Yes?”

Arthur stared at where the goblet had been hovering moments before. “Is this…? Does this mean…? Am I…?”

Merlin looked him the eye. “Yes.”

“But how? That was no spell. I wasn’t awake! It was just floating there…”

 “It’s rare, but you _must_ have had magic at birth. Only, it’s been kept from you somehow.” He picked up the goblet, setting it aside.

“And if it’s not that?”

“I don’t know.” He moved towards the side of the bed, taking Arthur’s hand. “But we’ll figure it out.”

Arthur’s fingers curled around Merlin’s hand. “Do you think Gaius would know?”

“Gaius always knows.”

He was finishing up his breakfast, Gaius, when Merlin and Arthur waltzed in. He stood up from the bench, arching an eyebrow at their arrival. If anything, they should have been getting ready for the day. The very important day which would change Camelot forever. Which would bring happiness to a topic that was so forbidden.

So, the question was, why were they there on the morning of such a day?

“Sire? Merlin?”

Arthur became breathless within a second, he glanced to Merlin, then to Gaius, completely out of it. “I…” Merlin placed his hand on his back, soothing him by rubbing circles. “I… think– We think… that I have magic.”

Gaius became just a breathless as Arthur was. He collapsed down onto the bench, feeling an armada of memories hitting him. “Yes… well… that’s perhaps because, you do. At least, now you do.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a long story and for a day like–”

“Gaius, whatever you know, tell me.”

He closed his eyes, sighing. “You were four months old, when it happened. The Great Purge was at its worst, and I have never experienced something so awful since then.”

=

Gaius pushed the doors open to an airy bright room. A few maids and nannies ran about, cleaning the place of any slither of dust and tending to the baby prince. Gaius made his way towards the cot, a small vial in in his hand.

“Gaius!” one maid exclaimed. “Is that the babe’s medicine?”

“It is. May I have some privacy while I give it to the prince Arthur? It is paramount that my concentration is not disturbed.”

“Absolutely.” The maid gestured to the other women in the room and the all left at once, leaving a breeze of wind from their movements.

Gaius stood beside the cot, popping the lid off the vial, using his fingers to lightly collect the slimy concoction up, applying it to Arthur’s lips. The door creaked open and Gaius looked over his shoulder, seeing Uther behind him.

“Gaius? How is he?”

“With this remedy, he will be fine. Only, make sure he doesn’t come into contact with that particular fruit again.”

“Of course.”

Arthur let out a small squeak as he stirred from his sleep. His eyes flung open and he let out a gurgle, waving his tiny arms about. Uther came up to the cot, smiling happily at his son but his eyes were dark with sorrow.

It was only then that Arthur stared at his father and any delight in his face faded away. If a baby could have given someone a death glare, this was it. Arthur’s shinning blue eyes were consumed by a slow yet dominating gold. A bucket full of water rose from the ground. Gaius gasped as he noticed that, yes, it was the baby doing this.

The bucket hovered high in the air, moving towards Uther, who was fixated on his son with golden eyes. His son was a sorcerer. His baby, his child, was the enemy.

Then, water came raining down on him and the bucket landed on his head. The gold was washed away by blue in Arthur’s eyes and he looked to Gaius, gurgling again, proud of what he did, like he had just defeated an enemy. Truly, it was the least Uther deserved.

Although while Gaius was somewhat proud of the courage Arthur showed, he covered his mouth as he realised that Uther was practically shaking with rage. The bucket came flying off, landing with a thud on the ground.

Uther stared down at himself as water dripped off his clothes. He was sopping. But he didn’t see anything other than red in those seconds. He grabbed Arthur’s arm, pulling, until he picked him up with an iron grip, only by his wrist. His arm went limp and Arthur was screaming in pain, crying his little eyes out. Uther held him at an arm’s length as he turned, not caring to support his head. But Gaius put a hand on his shoulder, stilling him.

“What do you think you’re doing?! He’s only a babe!”

“He is using magic! He’s dangerous and an abomination.”

Uther didn’t see anything else in that moment. If he was being his usual irrational rational self, perhaps he would have thought Arthur had been enchanted as an act of revenge. But it was only four months in, Uther thought no one had the resources to take revenge yet. In this case, he was right.

“You risked everything for an heir…! What are you going to do to him? Drown him? Like the other children?”

“I’ll put him in the cells for now. Gaius, you must understand that I _have_ to do this.”

Gaius complied, knowing it was the only way to give Arthur a chance. Uther commanded a few guards on his way, so that by the time they made it to a cell, a cot lay within. Still, Arthur was at an arm’s length, far but close to his father, still crying and wailing and screaming like a feeble little child, who only wanted to live. Who only wanted to give a minor punishment to his father, to make him see.

Uther turned to the guard that was, reluctantly, closing the cell. The poor guard was entirely confused, not knowing why a baby, and at that, why baby _Arthur_ , the prince, was lying in a cell.

“This– _child_ ,” Uther bit out, “is not to be fed or watered until I give permission. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sire.” The guard shrunk down into himself as Uther moved away, leaving the cells behind without looking back or showing remorse.

Gaius faced the guard. “Osric, Uther witnessed the prince use magic, I fear his days are limited.”

Osric looked around, seeing that no one was near to them. “Uther was soaking, was it the prince that did that?”

“Yes.”

“Then I hope for the little one. You know there are still some guards who are sorcerers, we will back you if you want to rescue him.”

“It would risk too many of you.” Gaius sighed. “I believe I have a better idea.”

Osric looked to Arthur. “Save him.” 

“I will try.”

In the woods, where everything was dark, distant screams could be heard from people fleeing the citadel. Yet more sorcerers had been ratted out in recent hours. Now, they ran for their lives as the knights edged closer to them, atop horses. That night, many would die.

Gaius wrapped the dark cloak he was concealed in closer to himself as he waited, hiding behind a tree to keep himself out of sight. If he was caught out there, he too would succumb to the purge.

“You shouldn’t have called me here.”

“I had to, my lady.” He turned, seeing Nimueh draped in a blue cloak.

“Why do you still call me so when you betray so many of our own, our _friends_?”

“I have done no such thing. Many would not have escaped if it weren’t for me.”

“Yes, well… You should make this quick, Gaius, I have no time for a traitor.”

“Prince Arthur has magic… I think he was born with it.”

Nimueh stepped back. “But how? Uther and Ygraine– Oh…”

“Do you believe the same as me? That the magic used to bring him into this world has gifted him with it?”

“Gaius… I believe he may be the Once and Future King the ancient prophecy speaks of.”

His eyes went wide. “Then we must save him. The child used magic to pour water on Uther, sending him into a fit of rage. Uther picked him up by his arm and left him in the cells.”

“It seems the babe hates Uther as much as any sorcerer.” She huffed, bitterly. “Except you.”

“It is better to have someone on the inside, to protect others.”

“But you can’t protect them all?”

“No…”

Nimueh nodded. “I can sense you have an idea.”

“You must know of the spell to take you back in time?”

“Of course, but what do you want me to do?”

“You must find a way to rid Arthur of his magic before today can happen.”

She let out a breath. “There’s only one way to do that. A bargain with the Disir.”

“That would ensure he would be judged one day. What if our choice leads to his death?”

“I suppose it’s the child’s only chance. Either he dies now, without ever having a chance to fulfil his destiny with Emrys, or he lives.”

Gaius pressed his lips into a thin line. “Then we must take this opportunity and act now, before it is too late.”

He turned to walked away, but Nimueh grabbed his wrist. “You were right to come to me, but I will never forgive you for what you’ve done.”

“I know… I’m sorry, my lady.”

She let go of his wrist, letting him walk away, letting him to return to the place where he would betray more of their kind. Nevertheless, she closed her eyes and whispered the words to take her back to her past self, ensuring the fate of the baby Arthur.

=

“Uther was prepared to let you die, Arthur. I had to do all that was possible to protect you,” Gaius finished explaining.

Arthur took an extremely deep breath, like he had rid the room of its surrounding air, only to breathe it back out again. “I know my father didn’t do it in _this_ timeline, yet, it hurts to know what he would have done to me… His own child… A baby.”

“He did plenty worse to newborns.”

Both Arthur and Merlin looked like they were about to vomit at that statement, though they both managed to collect themselves.

“How do you remember, if it was from a timeline that no longer exists?” Merlin wondered.

“Nimueh came to me after she had made a deal with the Disir. She insisted that I needed the memories so that I could protect you, if your magic ever showed, Arthur. She gave me a spell to use, the same one that was written on that note.”

“You recognised it?”

“Yes… It’s why I remember the worst time that never happened at all.”

“And my magic never showed in this timeline until now?” Arthur asked.

Gaius glanced to the ground. “There was one point, when you were the age of two, that I thought your magic would return. It was during the summer months and while I was attending to another sickness of yours, your eyes glowed gold for a second. I saw nothing happen, no magic at all, merely your eyes turned gold. But you giggled and clapped, and I had never seen you so full of joy.”

“Wait… could that have been the day I was born?” Merlin said, glancing to Arthur. “My birthday is in the summer and I am two years younger.”

“I suppose that may be an explanation.”

Arthur beamed. “I celebrated your birth.” His entire face lit up like a beacon.

Merlin grinned. “I can’t get the image of you as a happy infant, celebrating my very birth date, out of my mind now.”

“Your connection must be stronger than most think.” Gaius smiled. “To know when your destined is born, that should be impossible.”

“Is anything impossible anymore?” Arthur said. “If _I_ can have magic, of all people, that surely must mean impossibilities don’t exist.”

“Arthur… you were the first child to be born from magic for over four hundred years. None of us truly knew what we were doing. You were born from a magic at the root of the world, perhaps this is what happens.”

“I would have rather grew up with my magic, not have it sprung on me by a decision I made. A decision that shouldn’t have made this happen. None of what is happening– It’s too surreal.”

“Gaius, was there truly no other way?” Merlin asked, now having wrapped his arm around Arthur’s shoulder, gripping to add comfort.

“Another way? No. Unless... we had broken you out. But I see you now, Arthur, and I wonder who you’d be in the other timeline.”

Arthur shook his head and stood into his own space, closer to Gaius. “Are you suggesting that I’d be… evil?”

“Sire, do not listen to me, I’m an old man with many regrets.” Gaius easily slipped back into formal address, knowing he had pushed it with his last comment.

“I’m… I can’t think right now.” He moved back towards the door. “Merlin, come on, we have… to prepare.”

At that, they left Gaius in his room, thinking over all his past mistakes, his choices. Had he done the right thing? The Disir had locked up Arthur’s magic, kept it hidden within him, unable to access, unable to set free, until he _embraced_ the Old Religion. Not just respecting and learning the teachings, rather physically embracing it by giving indirect permission to set his magic free. To let it course through his body, growing in power with every second.

Back in his room, Arthur sat on his bed, twiddling his ring around his finger, sighing and sighing. Merlin stood, glancing over Arthur’s attire for the day. The cloak and chainmail for the announcement.

“No one can know we have magic… At least, not yet…” Arthur said, staring into space.

“I know. We must keep Morgana ignorant.”

“Yes…” He closed his eyes and his fidgeting ceased. “Merlin, could you teach me… a spell… Anything… Something simple.”

“The simplest spell I can think of…” He approached Arthur and grabbed a candle stand on the way. “Watch.”

“Okay…”

Arthur kept his eyes fixed on the candle, waiting intently. Merlin whispered ‘ _forbearnan_ ´ and the candle sparked up into life. Crackling away, waving from side to side in the slight breeze. Because, damn, those single glaze windows weren’t doing shit for the draft. As he watched the flame brighten up the place, Arthur smiled.

“You have to direct your magic at the candle, clear in your intent and say, fore/bear/nan.”

“Do you think I’d be able to do it?”

Merlin’s eyes flashed gold, extinguishing the flame. “You made a goblet float while you were asleep. I believe you’re perfectly capable.”

Arthur breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth, feeling for this new power that ran through him. That travelled around his body just as his blood did. He closed his eyes. “I can’t.”

“You can. You might not get it first time, but you can do it.”

He opened his eyes and stared at the candle, unsure of what to _really_ do. How could he, _Arthur Pendragon_ , set a candle alight by… saying a word and, what? Directing his magic? What did that even mean? How did it all work? He knew then, he had much to learn.

With a couple of false starts and a few smiles from Merlin, Arthur’s eyes glowed with gold as he whispered ‘ _forbearnan’_ delicately, like it was a treasured word. The candle happily burst into life, once again waving in the air.

Merlin beamed. “See? All you had to do was get the pronunciation right. And don’t worry, you have plenty of time to practice.” He once again extinguished the candle and set it down on a table nearby. “Now… you must get dressed. Big day today.”

Arthur stared at the ground for a moment, before looking up to Merlin. “Thank you, for always having faith in me.”

Merlin offered his hand and helped Arthur up from the bed, pulling him into a hug. “I’m here to support you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Upon a balcony, where everything felt so different, so new. It was safer up there. Protected by height and solid stone, so that if anyone wanted to rebel against the news of the day, there would be time to get out of there. Plenty of time indeed.

Arthur looked over the people standing before him, for the second time in consecutive days. Merlin was by his side, looking regal in his stance.

“I have called you here today, for yet another announcement. But this is different. This is not about personal matters, this is about laws. From now on, the ban on magic that has plagued this land for thirty years will be lifted. No longer will sorcerers have to cower in fear, as it is not right to be scared for simply existing. For too long, magic has been seen as an evil, when it is a tool. When it is the fabric of this very earth. It’s all around us, at every stage of our lives. It can be used to heal! To fight! To protect and defend! It has no right to be restricted in the ways that it has, it has no right to be persecuted.” He took a breath. “ _However_ , dark magic will still be banned as the practices are archaic and can hardly be used for good. Spread the word! Sorcerers and magic are free!”

Some of the audience clapped, some booed, but Arthur swiftly whisked away from the balcony and into the corridor, falling against the wall, like all his energy was drawn from him. Merlin crouched down by him, his hands resting on his back and arm, getting him to stand back up. Which he did, after a second or two.

“Something has changed… something feels different,” Arthur murmured, rubbing his chest. “It feels like…” His eyes went wide. “I think… Mordred is dead.”

Merlin closed his eyes and pulled Arthur into a hug. “We had to, remember that. We _had_ to.”

A servant rounded the corner at a great speed and cowered into themselves as they approached Merlin and Arthur, watching as they separated from the hug.

“Sire,” they said, grabbing Arthur’s attention.

“Yes?”

“Gaius requires you in Mordred’s chambers. He passed away moments ago.”

As they walked in, the room was filled to the brim with knights. All were bowing their heads to the young knight who had only done right by his duties, his king. Yet died due to Arthur’s actions, sacrificing him in the end. Whatever it was done out of, selfishness or the bigger picture, fate was sealed the second they all walked into that cave. And now Mordred lay dead in his bed, with knights respecting him all around.

A few had looked to Arthur when he came in and Merlin stuck at the back, keeping to himself but also bowing his head. They stood there for a long while, perhaps half an hour, before Gaius gave them all a nod and they flooded out, allowing him to prepare Mordred’s body for the funeral.

Merlin and Arthur were back in Arthur’s room, sitting at the table, quietly, in their own thoughts.

“I should contact his druid camp… Do you think they knew… of this possibility?” Merlin asked, his eyes sombre.

“I don’t know… It was closed off, wasn’t it? All this happened because Nimueh trapped my magic in a judgement. Can anyone sense a future like that?”

“Maybe we’ll never know.”

So, as Merlin rode out towards the last known location of the druid camp, Arthur went to his council meetings for the day, doing his best to keep his magic under control as it pulsed through his body, ready to explode with all the power it was manifesting. For thirty years, his magic had been locked away inside. Now, all it wanted was to express itself. But he’d have to wait for that, as the council was telling Arthur all about the _complaints_ for the new law.

“Lady Germaine is, so far, the only noble that has come to say that she fears for her life.”

Arthur squirmed in his chair. “Yes, and when the purge started she was, what? Nine? Has she ever been attacked by a sorcerer, did you ask?”

“No, they didn’t, Your Majesty,” Lady Germaine uttered, striding into the council. “I know I have no right to intrude, but you are risking the lives of your people.”

“ _Please_ , Lady Germaine, I do not want to argue. Not on a day like this.”

Her black and white dress, with golden embroidery around the hems, swayed. “Ah, yes, your knight… I’m sorry for your loss, my lord… But you will lose so many more people if you don’t stop this pointless quest of yours.”

Arthur stood from his chair, stepping away from it. His council members eyed him with caution, knowing he was on his last thread, ready to break with anger. “My lady, if you would be so kind to listen, I will tell you why this is not pointless and is instead needed.”

Her hands came to rest in front of her. “Go ahead.”

“Sorcerers attack Camelot _because_ they are banned. To be themselves would mean execution. Why is that fair? It’s not. The lies you were fed about the purge is why a hatred of magic spread when before, we all thrived together.” He clenched his fists. “My _father_ made a bargain with a High Priestess of the Old Religion to make my mother able to conceive. But that magic in particular was to create a life, and to do that, a death is needed. When I was born, my mother died, leading my father down a path of grief he could never return from. He blamed magic, when magic wasn’t at fault, _he_ was. He lied all those years, making people believe magic was to be feared, when it is beautiful. So, please, my lady, **get out** of my council chambers.”

Arthur lifted his chin as Lady Germaine nodded and backed out of the room. The council, who were staring intently, nodded to Arthur, and he sat back down.

“We should send that message out to the people, Sire. If they know of what your father did, then they may be more willing to accept magic,” one member put forward.

He turned to the member. “I can trust you to get it done, can’t I?”

“Certainly.”

“Then you are dismissed.”

The member nodded and got up from their seat, on their way with the aim to change the minds of the people.

\--

While the council continued with how to make the new law an easier fit with the people, Merlin arrived at the last known location of the druids that cared for Mordred, once upon a time.

He entered the cave and saw plenty of people busying about. A few druids stopped and nodded to Merlin as he traversed through. It was only when Iseldir spotted him, that everyone went quiet. He approached Merlin, tilting his head.

“Emrys, why are you here?” he asked.

Merlin glanced around him. “I’ve come with bad news.”

“Bad news? On a day like this?” Iseldir smiled. “We’ve already heard of the law being lifted. The Golden Age of Albion is beginning.”

“It was a hard decision to make, as it was the Disir that forced us to make a choice.”

“Either to accept magic or reject it. But you went with the intention of saving Mordred,” a woman perked up from one side of the cave. She walked over, with beady eyes all over Merlin. “I saw it in my visions.” She frowned. “Emrys, is he dead?”

“He died this morning. I came to inform you that his funeral will be taking place tomorrow if you want to pay your respects.”

Iseldir nodded. “Thank you… for coming to tell us. The boy hadn’t been in our care for many years, but we all treasured him. May I ask, how did he die?”

Merlin glanced to the ground. “He died saving Arthur’s life.”

The woman stepped closer to him. “And he will be remembered as a hero, rather than the traitor he could have become.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I think we can all understand that you had little choice.”

Merlin gave a curt nod and the woman removed her hand, letting him step back. They nodded back to him, solemnly and Merlin backed out of the cave, leaving them to make decisions. After all, the new time came from a sacrifice. Perhaps sacrifices had to be made, in the end, to bring about a time that every being with the powers of Sight had foretold.

\--

Arthur, meanwhile, had escaped from meetings, only to be stopped in the hall by Lady Germaine and someone who looked very lord like. Like Germaine, he wore black and white. _Ah_ , _yes_ , her husband of course.

“Lord Benen, Lady Germaine,” Arthur greeted.

“Your Majesty,” Lord Benen bowed his head. “I’m sorry for my headstrong wife. She tends to lose herself when it comes to issues on magic. You see, she lived on the outskirts and only heard the worst of rumours.” He smiled. “I am so glad the ban has been lifted, my lord. Only today, three of my household staff came forward and confessed to being sorcerers. I have never been happier to have their full trust! I’m sure you’ve had people come to you, no?”

“Only a few people from the lower town, who wanted to thank me wholeheartedly. I only said they mustn’t thank me. I was only undoing a wrong.”

“A great wrong I must say! My father once had an amulet that gave him enough power to use magic. It was supposed to be passed down to me, once, but the Great Purge stopped all that. He destroyed it, in the early days. Unlike some sorcerers, he didn’t have much natural ability. Nor do I. But I am glad others can feel free.” Benen scowled at Germaine. “I believe my wife has an apology to make.”

She sighed. “Yes. I’m so sorry, my lord. I barged in as large as life as if I knew much of anything. I was only in the courtyard when you made the announcement, as we are here visiting friends. It scared me to the core is all. I was in shock.”

Arthur nodded. He could easily understand that notion. “There is a lot of new to get used to, and I can see how this could all be a shock. But once you come around to the idea, it isn’t bad at all. Magic can be as good as a knight with a sword. There to protect. Remember that.”

“I will.”

Eventually, Arthur made it to his chambers and immediately collapsed in a chair. The day had barely crept into the late afternoon and so far, magic was legal, Mordred was dead and many a sorcerer had been living in Camelot for years, perhaps even since the Great Purge. The complaints had been heavy, but as he was sitting there thinking the truth about what Uther did was being spread. Rumours were bound to rise out of it all, but Arthur had already braced himself for those. He could take rumours.

What he could not take, however, was the feeling of his magic poking at his skin, itching to be used. He didn’t know what to do with it and began to find ways to tame it, to push it down. Soon enough, it finally listened to his call and shrunk back into itself, but it still wanted to be used. It had waited three decades after all.

“I’ve informed the druids,” Merlin said.

Arthur wasn’t sure when he had arrived, as he hadn’t even heard the door shut. He was too occupied by calming the raging power within.

“Good,” Arthur said as Merlin took a seat beside him. “The first complaints from villagers, townsfolk and even Lords and Ladies have been coming through. Lady Germaine stormed into my council meeting to question my judgement. Her husband, Lord Benen made her apologise afterwards. He said he was glad for the new law.”

“Lady Germaine is that loud woman from that feast, right? Long sweeping red hair?”

“Fire and fury is what she is. Her reputation is well known. If I wasn’t a king, I would be terrified of her.”

Merlin chuckled. “You’re still terrified.”

Arthur smiled. “Perhaps.” He swiftly deflated. “I’m having some trouble with my magic…”

“Is it itching to be used?”

“Yes.”

“Then we shouldn’t delay. You need to learn to control it, sooner rather than later.”

The two took to sitting on the ground, with a candle in-between them. Merlin got Arthur to light it, to even do spells _on_ the fire. Like getting the embers to form shapes such as dragons. He took to it quicker than Merlin thought possible, even getting some spells right first time. Merlin was well equipped in the knowledge that getting spells to work was hard, especially when you’re only beginning to learn. Never mind if you only realised you had magic _that_ morning. But then, maybe Arthur’s magic had been growing for thirty years and had just been, as they said, sectioned off, unable to be accessed.

While doing this, Merlin couldn’t help but think if he had taught Morgana, it would have been like this. Something strong within him gave him a sense of déjà vu. Like, he _had_ trained Morgana before. He regretted not trying.

After some time, Arthur was able to light the fire without prompt and a verbal spell. He was able to bend the embers to his will easily, after Merlin had given him a few choice words to shape it. Flowers, dragons and even various breeds of hunting dogs ensued.

“You’re doing well,” Merlin said, smiling, as Arthur managed to shape the fire non-verbally.

Arthur beamed at the compliment and stared at the falling embers as the shape of a dog faded away. “Can we do something other than fire?”

He chuckled. “Do you have any patience?”

“ _Mer_ lin, I’m lighting candles and shaping the fire without saying a spell. Can we move on?”

“Extinguish it and then we can.”

Merlin thought it was a challenge, as he hadn’t given Arthur any instruction as to how or any spell that could do so. But after a few seconds, Arthur’s eyes sparkled with gold and the candle snuffed itself out. Merlin leant back on his hands, gleaming, his eyes were brighter than the fire had been as pride settled in them.

“ _Well done_.” But Merlin didn’t say it aloud. Instead it echoed in Arthur’s brain, startling him at first, like he had been jumpscared. Okay, perhaps Merlin should have given him some warning.

“How?”

“ _Just… think_.”

“Uhh.” Arthur looked towards the ground, insecure. “ _Like this_?”

“ _So your powers **are** growing_.”

“ _I can feel the magic_ , _it wants to break free_. _Is it hard to control_?”

“ _Yes_. _When emotions are high_ , _I have to keep a tighter control on my magic… otherwise… A single burst of emotion_ , _of anger_ , _for example_ , _could shatter every window in the castle_.”

“ _You’re **that** powerful_?”

“ _Yes_. _And I’m starting to believe you’re just as powerful as me_.”

“ _What makes you say that_?”

“ _Yesterday_ , _you had no magic_. _This morning_ , _your magic came to you_. _Now_ , _you’re able to use non-verbal spells without much prompt_.”

“ _Is that unusual_?”

“ _Arthur_ , _it’s unheard of_. _I suppose we can never know of the repercussions for what Nimueh and Gaius did_. _This is a new territory for us all_.”

“So… what’s next?” Arthur wondered, out loud.

For what was next, it apparently consisted of Merlin running down to grab his spell book, soon returning to Arthur’s side with it firmly within his grasp. Arthur only shook his head at the sight, not even wanting to know where he’d been hiding it for all those years. Especially with how often his quarters had been searched. But Merlin’s smile as he flicked it open to search for simple spells made all those thoughts melt away.

For a long time, they sat side by side, skimming through the book, looking for the odd spell that was more for show rather than anything else. Slowly, Arthur was picking up the pronunciations better, even recognising some words that were repeating in certain spells.

He was able to spawn in guiding lights that floated around the room. He took to being able to move objects very easily, though considering the goblet that was a given. There was a point where Arthur caught a spell that Merlin had ignored, and it was romantic enough for Arthur to give it a go.

He smiled to himself as he turned from Merlin and, quietly, whispered ‘ _Blóstma_ ’ into his hands. Merlin, meanwhile, settled on a page about various healing spells. So, Arthur took that moment to turn to Merlin, opening his hands.

The flower was a pale-yellow primrose and Merlin looked to it, feeling his cheeks rise in temperature and his stomach swell with butterflies. Arthur lightly grabbed the flower and placed it behind Merlin’s ear, settling it nicely.

“You were sneaky there…” Merlin said, smiling bashfully.

“Yes, well, I caught sight of the spell as you flicked through the book…”

“And you thought of a primrose?”

Arthur blushed and looked away. “They’re pretty.”

He was certainly shocked when Merlin placed a dainty kiss on his cheek. They were both still scared to try and kiss, but somehow, the little peck on the cheek was enough to instil confidence in Arthur. He turned in his seat and cupped Merlin’s jaw, leaning in to place a light, small, barely a kiss, kiss on Merlin’s lips.

“Well… that didn’t burn,” Merlin whispered as Arthur moved an inch away.

“No…”

“ _Merrrlinnn_. _Arthhhurrr_ ,” a low rumbling voice echoed in their heads.

Both Merlin and Arthur jumped at the sudden invasion. Arthur furrowed his brows at the voice while Merlin rolled his eyes, pushing himself up from the chair.

“That was Kilgharrah,” he said. “We better go see him before he annoys us to death.”

“That doesn’t sound fun.”

“Believe me, it’s not.”

It may have taken half an hour, but the two eventually made it to the usual clearing Kilgharrah landed in. He towered above the trees, deliberately making himself look taller as a smug expression settled upon his features. Arthur could only stare at the beast that once tried to destroy Camelot, tried to destroy Uther. And he understood now, why he would do that, as Arthur was certain if he always had his magic, he would have wanted his father dead just as much.

“You could have come earlier,” Merlin said, pointing to the setting sun. “See that?”

“I doubt people would want to see a dragon in broad daylight.” Kilgharrah smirked. “Did I interrupt something?”

He folded his arms. “What do you know?”

“Very little…” He hunched down and looked to Arthur. “The ban is no more, and I thank you for that, young king.”

“It was… It wasn’t an easy decision.”

“Yes… The boy, Mordred.” He stared at the two. “His death bodes well for you both, I hope you realise that. In embracing the Old Religion, you have set yourselves free.” Merlin and Arthur glanced between each other as Kilgharrah lifted his chin, thoughtfully. “I can feel the magic within you, Arthur. It is more powerful than you could imagine.”

“Did you know?” Merlin said. “When I asked you about the Disir? Did you know this was a possibility?”

“No. I am but a dragon, only one future was clear to me, until now. My powers of prophecy are scattered and vague. I only know of the strongest destinies… And your magic, Arthur, was blind to us all. Not even the strongest Seer would have foreseen it.”

Arthur shivered, still unused to the feeling inside. “Because of the Disir? Because of the deal Nimueh struck?”

Kilgharrah tilted his head. “Nimueh was the one who made the deal? Interesting… I never would have thought she would save a Pendragon. But then, she was at the forefront of protecting sorcerers…” He trailed off into his own thoughts about the matter, working through Nimueh’s intentions.

“In the other timeline, I was four months old when Uther locked me in the cells, according to Gaius. Perhaps saving me was more because I was only a babe.”

“Yes… I would believe it was. Your magic is deeply rooted within your soul, Arthur, and the same can be said for you, Merlin. When I say you are two sides of the same coin, that coin is magic. You make each other complete, yes, but you make each other’s magic whole too. Apart, you are strong. Together, you are unstoppable.” He smiled in that unnerving way, like he knew more than anyone else and neglected to say anything.

“Your lack of riddles today, Kilgharrah, is something to be admired.” Merlin grinned up at him and Kilgharrah sighed.

“If you listened to me at all, young warlock, you would know my advice was never riddles.”

Arthur slung an arm over Merlin’s shoulder. “Haven’t you heard, Kilgharrah? He’s a bit of an idiot, most of the time.” A large grin overtook his features.

Kilgharrah showed his teeth in a twisted smile. “Oh, yes. I know well how much of an idiot he can be.”

Merlin glared at them both. “That’s… I’m not an idiot.”

“I mean, there should be a list, shouldn’t there?” Arthur asked Kilgharrah.

“Hmm. I could list off a few things.”

“I’m not the only idiot here,” Merlin said, eyeing them both.

“Excuse me?” Kilgharrah spluttered, rolling his eyes, while Arthur only let out a laugh in reply, not caring to deny it. 

“Was there anything else you wanted?” Merlin wondered.

Kilgharrah’s eyes filled with a rare emotion for the dragon. Compassion. “You have done what you set out do to, young warlock. You have saved Albion’s king.”

Arthur furrowed his brows. “You know more than you’re letting on.”

“Of course I do. It was an older Merlin that came to me.”

“I was right…” He muttered, removing his arm from Merlin’s shoulder. “Another Merlin came back?”

“No… If Merlin were to use a certain memory spell, he would regain his knowledge of other times.”

“I wouldn’t want to know,” Merlin said, shivering at the thought.

“I know you wouldn’t, for the memories would destroy the person you are right now.”

“Did you help the other me?”

“Partly.”

He smiled, faintly. “Thank you.”

Kilgharrah gave a nod. “I wish you well for the future, young warlock and young king.”

The two traipsed into Arthur’s chambers late in the evening, all worn out from their busy day. Arthur immediately went to his bed and collapsed on it, pulling all the covers onto his side. Merlin rolled his eyes and put it down to the fact that Arthur had been in the council all day, dealt with his magic all afternoon and had just gone to and from the forest to speak with a dragon. He could allow him this sudden lack of energy, even though Merlin had been on his own journey for the day.

“Should I go get food?” he asked, staring at Arthur’s motionless body.

“Noo… Far too tired… to eat.”

“Are you at least going to get dressed for bed?”

With a few sure kicks of his legs, his boots came flying off, and with a few tugs of his tunic, he pulled the thing off his head and discarded it on the floor. He pressed his face into the pillows and sighed happily.

As Merlin picked up Arthur’s boots and tunic, placing them in a better location, Arthur violently turned in the bed and threw out his arm, silently asking for Merlin to sleep beside him, which he did, once he got ready.

“Long day?” Merlin asked as he sank into the comfy bed.

“Too long.”

The trends of fluctuating moods continued into the next day, as Mordred’s funeral pyre was being set up. Crowds of knights surrounded the thing, and on the outskirts of the people, Merlin recognised a few druids. Their heads were bowed low, and they were murmuring their own prayers. As the solemn mood took over, Merlin and Arthur looked to each other, having a conversation with their eyes.

 _We caused this_.

 _We did the right thing_.

 _Did we_?

 _Yes_.

And while a much older, more experienced Merlin would definitely say they did the right thing, these two were conflicted to say the least. Magic was legal, but Mordred was dead. Perhaps it was fitting. So many sorcerers had sacrificed themselves for the cause and yet, it took a sorcerer saving their king to set off a chain reaction, resulting in the law change. Maybe Mordred would even be glad for what he did and what it brought about.

As the crowds peeled away, the druids came up to Merlin and Arthur, bowing their heads to them.

Iseldir sighed. “We know what you had to do, and I believe anyone would do the same. Mordred was… a difficult one when it came to destiny. But now we’re aware exactly what your choice entailed.” He turned to Arthur. “You embraced the Old Religion literally. The power I, we, can sense within you… It is within the same vein as Emrys’s.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “So we’ve been told.”

The woman from the day before stepped forward. “We can hardly say what destiny holds now, but the Golden Age has begun. Any druid knows that living amongst the legends you will cause is more than an honour.”

“Legends?” Merlin was quick to ask.

“Oh yes, legends. You will find out soon.”

Iseldir shook his head at the woman and her enthusiasm. It was a requirement not to tell the destined two about their, well, entire destinies. “Anyhow… We are glad you invited us. Being able to say goodbye was needed.”

“It was the least we could… do.”

Merlin and Arthur nodded to the druids as they turned to walk off, back to their camp. The two supposed that they would no longer have to hide in a cave anymore. With magic legal, if anyone wished to attack, they could easily take them out without repercussions. At least, to some degree.

It was later that day when everyone sat at the round table. Merlin still stood behind as too many changes at once would probably cause the entirety of Camelot to die on the spot. A moment of silence took place as everyone around remembered Mordred’s sacrifice once more, before moving on to important matters.

During the meeting and after a bout of telepathic communication with Merlin, Arthur decided it was best to tell the knights, _but only the knights_ of their magic. That way, they didn’t have to hide to protect their people, making it easier to save their troops, they hoped.

Arthur took a breath as he prepared himself. “With that said, I have something I need to share with you all.” _Dramatic pause_ , just to gear himself up. “I discovered yesterday that I have magic and…” He glanced over his shoulder, wanting Merlin to tell his secret himself.

“And I also have magic,” Merlin continued, stepping closer to the table.

Arthur nodded to him and turned back, seeing wide eyes and gaping mouths. A sight Arthur was beginning to get used to. “Merlin had his since birth, and according to Gaius, so have I, but mine was closed off from me till now. We thought it was best you all knew so that it makes matters easier out in the field. But you mustn’t tell a soul, as Morgana is still at large and if she knew, it would risk us all.”

Gwaine leant forward and smiled. “I think we can all keep that secret. After all, a lot of lucky escapes make sense now.” He eyed Merlin and his smile widened. “And with two mighty warlocks on our side…” He gave Arthur a good look, “perhaps we have a chance of surviving Morgana’s wrath.”

Gwen smiled too. “Wonders never cease…”

“Well, the change in the law makes far more sense now,” Leon chimed in, sending a look Arthur’s way. One of understanding.

“It would be you two, wouldn’t it?” Elyan said, grinning.

Percival smiled as he glanced between the two. “We’ll have nothing to fear in the field with all our skills.”

A few more knights said their peace, mainly with good things to say, now knowing they were likely alive because of their training and some magic. With the added addition of Arthur’s magic, they were all set. Merlin and Arthur were glad for the good reactions, knowing their friends would be safer in the times to come.

As the meeting ended, the main group of knights stayed behind, smiling.

Gwaine pulled Merlin into a hug, patting his back. “Can’t believe you didn’t say anything.”

“Didn’t want to lose my head, did I?”

“As if,” he said as he parted from the hug.

“Merlin… How for all these years did you keep it a secret? You’re… well, _you_ ,” Leon said, vaguely gesturing to Merlin.

“It’s not my fault if you’re all thick.”

The lot of them laughed and Percival and Elyan gave Merlin a good whack on the arm, smiling. It was then that Gwaine turned to Arthur, crossing his arms.

“And you?” he said, arching a brow. “What the _hell_?”

Arthur shrugged. “If I knew…”

“What a day…” Gwaine glanced around. “Anyone want to head down to the tavern?”


	4. Burning Fire

It was quite easy to let the months slip from them. Rumours began to float around for all sorts of things. Especially when it came to Merlin’s and Arthur’s new relationship. And then, there was the matter of Morgana. It was said that she murdered all the Saxons working for her. This, eventually, led to a small battle in Camelot which Arthur and his troops easily won, especially with his and Merlin’s magic at hand.

There was no news for a long time on Morgana’s whereabouts. Sorcerers that went on patrols often reported of a strange sensation in the air, a dark evil feeling. This startled the people around, as this thick feeling only inched further towards Camelot, like someone was taunting them. Of course, Camelot still had strong sorcerers as enemies, even with the ban lifted, but Merlin and Arthur knew it was likely to be their old friend and ally.

“So, of course, I gave him a raise,” Arthur said, sipping his wine.

He and Merlin were sitting at Arthur’s table, just about to tuck in to their evening meal. It had become the talk of the servants, that Merlin now shared his dinners with Arthur. Sometimes it would be breakfast too, if Merlin wasn’t seen returning to Gaius’s quarters. People were beginning to notice their closeness as they were slowly making themselves more public in their affections, getting people used to it, in a way.

“I bet he loved that. More money to spend on polishing cloths.” Merlin chuckled. “How _is_ George dealing with his new duties?”

Those new duties included Merlin’s entire job. Well, most of it anyway. If the two got what they wanted, George would become Arthur’s new manservant.

“Fine, as far as I know. He keeps assuring me that he won’t say anything every time I run into him. As if I care. Once the council decide to stop being arses, things will progress.”

At last they looked to their meals, Arthur began to tuck into his, but quickly noticed something different about Merlin’s. The cooks were under strict instructions to set out the two portions exactly the same, except, tonight, Merlin’s wasn’t. Instead, the meat of the dish was slimier than Arthur’s, like it had been doused in something.

“Wait.” He stuck out his hand, stopping Merlin from picking up his cutlery.

Merlin glanced to Arthur, worry in his eyes. “What is it?”

“I think… your meal has been laced with something.”

He checked between his meal and Arthur’s, spotting the differences. “Yeah… Mine has a lot more liquid.”

“We should go to Gaius. He can determine what it is.”

When they made it to his quarters, Gaius didn’t delay in finding out just what it was. He collected up as much of the fluid as he could and got to testing. He dropped it into liquids of various colours and squirted drops onto powders. It fizzed, it caused colour changes, it did all sorts. It was only when he flicked to a certain page of his book that he realised exactly what the liquid was.

“You’ll never believe it,” he said, setting his materials aside.

Merlin inched towards him. “What?”

“The liquid is from the petals of the Mortaeus flower. It’s far more concentrated than the petal is on its own. I have reason to believe it was enchanted too.”

“I’m glad we didn’t eat dinner sooner now.” Arthur brushed a hand through his hair. “I would not have liked to go back to those caves.”

Gaius shook his head. “It’s alright, Sire. I’ve been growing the Mortaeus flower here ever since that day.”

“You have?”

“Oh yes, it was in case of any emergencies. I had hoped our days of seeing this poison were long gone.”

Merlin folded his arms. “There’s few suspects then. The cooks wouldn’t have let our meals leave the kitchen until they looked exactly the same. Audrey would go murderous if they weren’t.”

Arthur’s eyes went wide. “But that only leaves George… And he’s the most outstanding servant Camelot has ever seen, he would never...”

“Is it right to place your trust in him?” Gaius wondered.

“No, Arthur is right. There is nothing George wouldn’t do for us. Even if we told him he had to go in the stocks five times a day, every day, he would, without hesitation,” Merlin chimed in, looking to Arthur with worry. “He’s been threatened.”

“I would like to believe that, but if he isn’t…” Arthur sighed. “We’ll have to take precautions.”

Guards came bursting into George’s small servant chambers. He certainly didn’t have much, other than his clothes and a couple of books.

Poor George was hauled up from where he sat on his bed, held firmly and mercilessly by the guards. Arthur and Merlin came into the room after. Merlin gave George a good look, like he was surveying him, while Arthur folded his arms, sighing at the state. George was sweating and shaking, on the edge of a breakdown.

“George, why did you poison Merlin’s dinner?” Arthur questioned, keeping his voice toneless.

He quivered violently, and the guards had to tighten their hold as his legs were like jelly. “She’ll kill me!”

Arthur took a step back, unnerved. The pure fear could only suggest one. “Who?!”

“Morgana, Sire!” He shrunk into himself, tears streaming down his face. “She’s back…”

Merlin swiftly looked to Arthur, fear residing in them both. “We knew this was coming.”

“She clearly wanted to kill you, to get to me…” Arthur glanced to the guards. “Release him.”

George sighed with relief as he was let go. “She said that she’d be waiting in the throne room.”

He turned to Merlin, his eyes glinted as a plan came to mind. “I’ll go in first, but you should wait, till an opportune moment. If we go in at the same time, she might take us both out at once.”

Merlin pressed his lips into a thin line but nodded nonetheless. “It could go either way, but alright.”

In no time at all, they made it to the room. As a precaution for the worst, the two kissed. It was fleeting, a farewell and a promise to come back. If they had anything to do with it, they weren’t going to die that day. As Merlin clung to the wall right by the doors, Arthur sauntered in. His hand held the hilt of his sword, but he stopped instantly as he saw Morgana sitting on the throne, looking high and mighty.

“Dear brother!” She exclaimed, smirking. “You’ve been busy while I’ve been away.”

His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, and he kept his other hand at the ready, in case his magic was needed. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d come see this new Camelot for myself.” She stood. “The people are happy, if not slightly scared. The ban has been lifted, though I _am_ hurt you’d keep dark magic outlawed.” Her crooked smile brought out fear in Arthur. “Gwen is no longer your wife nor queen. Merlin–” She sniggered. “ _Merlin_ , as the servants tell me, is your bedwarmer. And I’ve even been hearing rumours that he is a sorcerer.”

Arthur clenched his jaw. “What game are you playing?”

“Oh? This? This isn’t a game. This is me preparing to take Camelot from you… I only wanted to see how you had changed. Yet, you’re still young and naïve.”

At that moment, Merlin waltzed in, not waiting to confront Morgana any longer. As he came to a stop beside Arthur, Morgana flicked her hand, her eyes turning gold as the doors to the room slammed shut.

“And he has arrived! Your cherished Merlin.” She sat back down. “Your precious lover tried to poison me once, Arthur.”

He glanced to Merlin. “I know.”

“You… _know_?” Morgana laughed. “And you still want him by your side?”

“He did what he had to do, to stop all of Camelot succumbing to your sister.”

Merlin stared forward as he stayed silent, yet not in his head. “ _Arthur_ , _we need to do something before she kills us_.”

“ _If I push her back_ , _is there something you can do to contain her_?”

“ _Yes_.”

“How dare you!” Morgana bit back, bolting up. “We wanted to end Uther’s cruel reign.”

“Is that not what I’ve done, _dear sister_? Have I not undone some of the hurt he caused?” Arthur dropped his hand from his sword, preparing.

“You are exactly like him, in every way.”

“You’re wrong.” He outstretched his hand. “ _Hlēap on bæc_!”

Morgana went tumbling against the chair, causing it to fall backwards with her. She landed in a heap on the floor, groaning from being thrown against the hard wood. She rolled over and got to her hands and knees, laughing.

“My oh my… Arthur Pendragon has magic. That’s poetic.” She turned to look at him, though, as soon as she did–

Merlin extended his arm, not giving her another second. “ _Bebūg híe in bealobendas heaðufýr_.”

Morgana yelled in pain as fire wrapped around her wrists and ankles, creating shackles. Thick, horrible, burning fire and flame. It scorched her as she tried to move and struggle. And she kept muttering spells, to no avail. The sheer power of the spell was too strong for a high priestess to do anything about.

“So… the prophecy is right…” She coughed and whimpered at the pain. It was so incredibly agonising, that she could barely think. “The Once and Future King and his Emrys. Side by side, with the aim to unite the lands and bring magic back.” She laughed. “Who knew that they would _both_ be capable of magic?”

Merlin kept a sharp glare on her. “We were born like this, the same as you.”

Morgana used the strength she could muster to battle through the pain, to stand. Her mouth hung open in disgust. “Did you really sit by for all those years, Arthur, and watch people like you _burn_?”

“I didn’t–” His head dropped. “I didn’t know I had magic then.”

“Then what? Did it appear one day like mine did?”

“It did. Although, there were forces in place to keep my magic from me.”

Morgana furrowed her brow, almost looking like the innocent young woman she once was. “Why would someone do such a thing?”

“To protect me from Uther.”

“Not calling him father now?”

“I can’t.”

She nodded, solemnly. “What do you plan to do with me?”

“ _We could make her leave_ , _if you want to save her_ ,” Merlin echoed in Arthur’s head.

“ _Isn’t too risky_?”

“ _You have something in common_. _Maybe you can both stop seeing each other as evil_. _Morgana was misled into a world of hate_ , _you had the same experience_. _Now_ , _why should you hate when your goals are similar_?”

“Please, stop talking within your own heads and tell me how I’m going to die,” Morgana said, still wincing in pain as the chains burnt her.

Arthur sucked in a breath of courage. “Morgana, your goal to take over Camelot has been thwarted many times. Shouldn’t we both end this hatred? Magic is at the heart of Camelot, you’re free.”

“And I will always be the woman who killed so many. I’m not free.”

“Then journey to a different kingdom, far from here. We don’t have to kill you.”

“My sister is long dead. Aithusa has turned away from me. And everyone else has betrayed me.” She grimaced. “Kill me, so that this can all be over with.”

“Morgana–”

“I am not the girl you knew nor am I the woman you think I became. I’d rather die now than live to die later, still at Emrys’s hand.”

“I won’t kill you,” Merlin said, his eyes staring at what appeared to be the suicidal woman in front of him.

“You will. But to spare Arthur the pain of this, I don’t want him to be here.”

Morgana struggled in her chains, her tone breathed sincerity. She really didn’t want Arthur to see her death, that much was true. Although, her eyes glinted in a way that suggested her sentence had more meaning. She watched carefully as another silent conversation took place between Arthur and Merlin. Before she knew it, Arthur backed out of the room, sending a message Morgana’s way.

“ _I’m sorry_. _I wish it didn’t have to be like this_.”

“ _I’m sorry too_ ,” she replied, closing her eyes.

Arthur rushed down the corridor, trying to find somewhere for fresh air. The events unfolding in that room made his stomach turn an unbelievable amount. His own sister was going to die at the hands of his lover. Was destiny really so cruel? Or did it have to be this way, for the Golden Age to truly begin?

“Why, Morgana?” Merlin asked, taking steps towards her.

“You’re Emrys. You are my doom regardless.” She laughed. “You may have changed Mordred’s fate, even Gwen’s, but you can’t change mine. This day has plagued my dreams since the ban was lifted.”

“But doesn’t that show you? Things _can_ change.”

“I don’t think you understand, Emrys.” She gave a twisted to smile. “While my dreams foretold today is my death, it is yours too.”

Even with her fiery constraints, she flicked out a dagger and threw it towards Merlin, using her magic to guide it. Her hands stayed in front of her, burning through the skin, burning her flesh, all while her eyes glowed with gold, determined. Merlin held up his hand to stop the dagger, but Morgana’s magic ploughed through his spells, powerful enough with rage and vindictiveness to fly straight into his heart. He screamed with pain as the dagger found its new home within his chest, lapping up the blood inside, letting it ooze around the edges, to drip from the wound.

He fell to his knees and Morgana did also as the fire began to wrap tightly around her wrists and wind up her arm, coiling around her neck and choking her. She was weak from her defiance and willpower to take Merlin down with her. But she knew her doom was nearing as Merlin breathed a few deep breaths, gasping.

“ _Heaðufýr_ , _bebræden æt hie heortscræf_!” he shouted, with the last of his energy. As the gold faded from his eyes, he fell sideways. His world slipped from him as his breaths became short and his skin was going pale.

Meanwhile, the fire upon Morgana’s arms and neck twisted around, cascading down her, moving to hover over her chest. It crackled for a moment, and she allowed herself to think Emrys had been too weak to finish the job, till it struck her. She winced and inhaled sharply as she fell against the ground. Her body quivered and twitched, and her eyes locked with Merlin’s as they both went incredibly pale. Within her, her heart had burnt to ash and her body was swiftly shutting down.

As Merlin’s vision became fuzzy, Morgana managed to laugh before her eyes closed, her life seeping away. Happy for her one last act of revenge.

Merlin felt something ease within him, as for all the recent months, he hadn’t been able to feel truly free and at peace until that very moment. But, unfortunately for him, he too was dying and fading away.

He couldn’t help but think of the old Morgana, the one he had once called his friend. The Morgana who would do anything to protect rather than kill, who was true to her heart instead of cruel and vindictive. And Merlin knew the path of corruption was so easy to follow, as he himself had fallen victim to protecting the ones he loved with no remorse or care for anything or anyone else.

But as he thought of that, his mind drifted to Arthur. The man who he loved so fiercely, the man he was going to _marry_ one day. And then, there he was, dying on the cold wooden floor of the throne room, staring at Morgana’s lifeless body. He screamed in his head for Arthur. _Screamed_ till his mind went foggy. But he couldn’t be sure if his telepathy had worked at all.

All the while, Arthur stood at a window, not too far from the throne room. He was watching the people outside and cherishing the fresh air that the open window brought until… a feeling of peace welled within him. He leant against the wall, knowing what had happened and closed his eyes softly. His sister was gone but a new time was coming, where fear would decrease exponentially.

It was when a feeling of utter dread pooled in his stomach that his eyes snapped open. His magic whirled around in him, pulsing like a warning bell. It yelled and poked at the surface of his skin. Goosebumps covered his entire body as his temperature dropped, his face going pale.

 _Merlin_.

Of course, somehow, he had gotten himself hurt. What was he expecting from the most powerful warlock the world had ever seen? Well, he was expecting more than what he saw when he burst into the throne room.

Merlin, lying, eyes closed, breathing low. Arthur fell to his knees by him, collecting him into his arms, pulling him close to his chest. The dagger stuck in Merlin’s heart sent butterflies of fear into Arthur’s stomach. He sucked in a breath, trying to keep calm as he felt for Merlin’s pulse. It was weak but present. _Weak but present_. He had time.

Without delaying and ignoring Morgana’s body that was further in the room, Arthur picked Merlin up, like a baby, like a bride. Nevertheless, Merlin was in his arms and he was trying his level best to keep the dagger in position, knowing from all his years out in the field, it was likely to be keeping him alive and breathing. Never mind how shallow that breathing was.

The door to Gaius’s quarters blew open, revealing a dishevelled Arthur and an unconscious Merlin. Gaius immediately jumped up from where he was preparing potions and guided Arthur to an empty bed. Arthur set Merlin down gently, with great care and collapsed by the bed, sandwiching Merlin’s hand between his own, pressing his forehead against them.

“Gaius… I can feel a powerful poison within him. _Heal_ him.”

“The blade… must have been laced with poison.” Gaius’s eyes swept over the wound, the blood around it, the dagger, where the dagger was. “It’s lodged in his heart; the poison will be within his bloodstream by now.” He rushed to his books, immediately locating one on healing. “Alice is in the lower town, I have to go get her.”

“Do anything you must. I won’t leave him.”

Gaius, while violently shaken up by what he saw, dashed out of his quarters at a quicker speed than Arthur had ever seen him go. And Arthur merely shrunk into himself, holding Merlin’s hand so tightly he was close to cutting off his blood supply.

“I can feel you dying… My very soul feels it. Merlin– Don’t die. You can’t die.” He closed his eyes as tears made themselves known. “Please, _please_. I love you too much… to lose you.”

After wallowing got the better of him, Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off the knife. Thoughts kept swirling in his mind. _Morgana did this_ , _my sister did this_ , _an enemy did this_. He didn’t know what to do. His entire world was crumbling around him. While his sister was dead and he felt large amounts of peace, his love was right in front of him, barely alive but holding on. He couldn’t help but think, _this isn’t how this ends_. Maybe he was naïve, thinking they would go on for years, but something deep in his mind told him that was so. Hope was reignited then, just as Gaius returned with Alice.

“Oh… God.” She rushed to Merlin’s side, placing the back of her hand against his forehead. “The poison, it has reached every inch of him.”

“I can feel him dying, Alice…” Arthur looked weak, his eyes looked dead. “I can feel it in my bones.”

“Arthur… Can you give me space?”

He looked to her, bleary eyed, but stood up and away from Merlin, giving her the space she needed. He only moved to a bench a few metres away, but it was a few metres too far in his opinion. While Alice tended to Merlin, gearing him up to heal him, Gaius draped a comfort blanket over Arthur and rubbed his shoulders.

“Alice is the most powerful healer I have ever seen in our time. Merlin will live.”

“And what if he doesn’t? What then? Because I can’t live without him, I–” He let out a wail instead of finishing his sentence, allowing his tears to fall.

“Merlin always survives more than he ever should.”

“Hopefully this time will be the same.”

After Alice had prepared a few potions, uttered a few spells, tended to Merlin for hours, nothing came of it. Arthur just stood, staring, as Alice’s eyes only widened further and further as the seconds ticked on. Each thing she tried failed, each and every one.

Gaius pulled her aside at one point. “Have you identified the poison?”

“It’s not any normal poison I know. It’s enchanted with magic. Perhaps the knife was too. By all means, Merlin shouldn’t be alive right now. Magic as powerful as this would easily wipe out any creature of magic…” She sighed. “I think it may be both his magic and his connection to Arthur that’s keeping him alive.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was both that keeps him from death…” His eyes filled with sorrow.

“I am not strong enough to pull him back. My healing spells seem to make no difference.”

“I… Is there anything we can do?”

Alice glanced to Arthur. “I think it has to be Arthur.”

“He can barely stand, let alone use magic. Let alone use _healing_ spells. He hasn’t learnt many.”

“His connection to Merlin should be enough.” She faintly smiled with reassurance. “Do you know of the ancient ritual, to bind the souls of two sorcerers?”

“I do.”

“There is a healing spell one can use on the other, that relies on the connection. I think the same spell could be used in this case.”

“But they haven’t–”

“Destiny already did it for them.”

Gaius nodded. “Be gentle when you tell him.” He looked to a shaking Arthur, whose eyes were worn and red. “He might faint on the spot.”

Alice approached the man who was nothing more than a trembling lump of blankets. “Arthur…”

“What’s happening– now?”

She gave him a sympathetic look and placed her hand on his arm. One thing she was glad for since her return to Camelot, was how close she had gotten to Arthur and Merlin. Becoming somewhat of a mother figure to Arthur in the process. “Dear, I think you must be the one to heal him.”

His eyebrows knitted as tears dared to prick at his eyes. “But… how? You are the best healer we have. I can heal no better than Merlin can… You’re better.”

“You are connected, bonded, to Merlin. I know of a spell that could work. You must trust me. I’ll guide you through it.”

Arthur nodded, unable to say another word. Alice took this as permission and grasped him by his elbow and hand, carefully guiding him to a chair by Merlin’s cot. As Arthur sat, Alice whipped around to the other side, hovering over the knife that still stuck in Merlin. They all knew that it being fixed there was his last lifeline.

“I need to pull the knife out…” She nervously trailed off as Arthur looked to her with wide eyes. “It’s okay, it’s needed for the spell. In order for it to work, you must be covering the wound with your hands. Is that alright?”

Arthur nodded, with tears firmly in his eyes. A few split out as he was gearing himself up for the spell. “Will it work?”

“I’m almost sure of it.”

“Okay… What is the spell?”

“Mín tréowlufu, eftgemyndge ure gecnycc, lǣt hit hǣl þin þrowunga.” She watched as Arthur recited it silently within his mind and by mouthing it slowly. “Do you have it?”

“Yes…” He inched towards Merlin, ending up on the edge of his seat. “I’m ready.”

Alice, gently, pulled the knife out, careful not to disturb any more of Merlin’s insides. A small stream of blood poured out and Arthur was quick to cover the wound with both hands, pressing down firmly. He closed his eyes, searching deep.

“ _Mín tréowlufu_ , _eftgemyndge ure gecnycc_ , _lǣt hit hǣl þin þrowunga_!” His eyes flung open, just in time for Alice to see the gold washing over. He kept his hands pressed down on the wound, too scared to move in case blood pooled out.

Gaius hovered by the bed, wringing his hands. He certainly had more colour in his cheeks than Arthur did, but the fear in his eyes was astounding. Alice leant down, pressing her fingers lightly against Merlin’s neck, feeling for his pulse.

“His pulse is growing in strength.” She gestured for Arthur to move his hands, to which he reluctantly did, with slow movements. Alice dabbed some of the blood away with a cloth, revealing that Merlin’s wound was no more. Barely a mark lay in its place. “You did it, Arthur. You did it.”

Arthur broke out in a smile, and in all his joy, he got up from his seat and hugged Gaius, who was beaming and had regained much of his composure. As had Arthur. He had bounced back from his pit of despair.

“What… happened?” Merlin murmured as he stirred awake. Alice tried to get him to drink some water, as his lips were all chapped.

Arthur rushed back to his side and took his hand. “Morgana stabbed you… The knife was laced with poison and both the poison _and_ the knife had been enchanted.”

Gaius lightly smiled. “It was Arthur who healed you.”

Merlin craned his neck, looking to Arthur, wincing slightly from the remnants of weakness. “That… takes a lot of energy… Are you alright?”

Arthur shook his head while smiling. “Trust you, Merlin, to ask if _I’m_ alright. I’m fine, you on the other hand, need rest.”

“Both of you need rest. The spell you preformed, Arthur, was no easy feat,” Alice said, a worried look in her eye.

“Proud of you,” Merlin whispered, as his tiredness overtook him, causing him to yawn.

“Rest... Please just rest.”

Gaius placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, smiling to him, before doing the same to Arthur. He then proceeded to go lie down. The night had been long and gruelling. So much so that the early hours of the morning were peeking through.

As daybreak blasted through the windows of time, everyone had ended up sleeping awkwardly in Gaius’s chambers. Alice had fallen asleep while trying to clean up. Gaius was in Merlin’s old room, in which a double bed now lay. Arthur had his head lain on Merlin’s stomach, while Merlin slept quite comfortably in the bed.

It was then that Gwaine and Percival strode in, concluding from the sheer amount of blood in the throne room and Morgana’s dead body, that something had gone down. The other knights had taken to sorting out Morgana’s body while Gwaine and Percival got the fun job of finding Merlin and Arthur.

As they saw everyone sleeping, it was easy to work out that the night had been long. But, with a dead body on their hands, the dead body of a lady/princess/evil sorcerers/high priestess, they had to get something sorted sooner rather than later.

Gwaine crept over to where Arthur was sleeping and lightly tapped his shoulder, causing him to jolt awake with full force, pushing Gwaine back. Of course, when he noticed who it was, he relaxed.

“What is it?”

“Morgana, Sire. What must we do with her?” Percival asked.

Arthur sighed and stood up. “I will make sure her body is dealt with in a proper manner. If you bring her body here, we can start the preparations.”

It was late in the afternoon when Morgana’s body had been prepared. She lay in one of her old dresses, a flowing blue one. Gwen had easily agreed to help out. She brushed her hair, plaiting it to lay down one shoulder. She cleaned the burns around her wrists and neck, making them as neat as possible. And she applied softer makeup, making her look like the Morgana everyone had once loved and respected.

In Gaius’s quarters, Merlin, Arthur, Leon and Gaius (of course) all stood behind Gwen as she added the final touches. Conflicted was the word. The sadness of her death was overruled by some amounts of pity. She had been good, with a true heart, then she betrayed them so easily. Becoming vindictive in her goal. She became what she hated in the end.

“Where should her funeral take place?” Leon asked as her funeral could hardly take place in public.

“The lake of Avalon,” Merlin said, without hesitation. It would be suiting, for another _old friend_ to end up there.

“The lake of Avalon?” Arthur questioned.

“It wouldn’t be the first funeral I’ve done there.”

“I suppose it’s out of the way… Alright. There it is.”

The trees shook, the water rippled, the birds sang with grief. Morgana may have become a darkness to light, but she was a High Priestess. The earth was allowed to mourn her passing, as was anyone else. Especially those who were once close to her, who were once her friends. But that time was long gone, in the distance, too far to grasp.

Morgana lay upon a wooden boat, surrounded in flowers. Her hands lay upon her stomach and her hair lay smoothly, creating a perfect picture of death and mourning. Because while Morgana had betrayed them and had tried to kill them many times, they mourned her, and they mourned the girl she once was.

They stood a reasonable way from the shoreline, but Arthur was a little closer. Merlin was still too weak to do much, so it was up to Arthur to cast Morgana’s body away.

He hesitantly raised his hand; sorrowful tears lay in his eyes. It wasn’t easy, for Morgana wasn’t just a friend to Arthur. She was his sister. And while they didn’t know when they were children, the two had acted like siblings. Now? His sister who had betrayed and attempted to kill him so many times, who had caused so much hurt, who caused the death of their father, was dead upon a boat. What an end.

“ _Astyre_. _Wæcce on sæbát bælfýr mæst_ ,” he finally uttered, allowing the boat to move out into the water, sparking alight like it was a match. It consumed everything, the fire. It burnt away the flowers, it burnt at the wood, at Morgana’s flesh. Needed yet not pleasant.

They watched for some time. The conflicted emotions could be felt all around. Gwen couldn’t help but shed a few tears, the same as Arthur. Merlin wallowed in his own guilt and grief but knowing what she had done prevented the tears that were burning behind his eyes. Leon sniffled a couple of times but kept his emotions in check. All the while Gaius dipped his head, whispering a few prayers, with regret in his voice.

Morgana was gone. Mordred was gone. Magic was legal. Arthur had been saved.

What did time hold for them now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spells:  
> “Bebūg híe in bealobendas heaðufýr.” – Surround her in chains, cruel fire.  
> “Heaðufýr, bebræden æt hie heortscræf.” – Cruel fire, spread to her heart.  
> “Mín tréowlufu, eftgemyndge ure gecnycc, lǣt hit hǣl þin þrowunga.” – My true love, remember our bond, let it heal your sufferings.


	5. Rewritten Fake Love

Arthur came rushing into his room. Or more, the doors blew open with the use of his magic as he held a large basket in his arms. He threw it down on the table, rubbing at his joints from the heaviness of it.

“What is _that_?” Merlin asked. He was busy with some chores, with the use of magic. Cloths were cleaning sections of the floors, other cloths were dusting in places, while Merlin himself was polishing Arthur’s armour. If he wanted anything, he wanted Arthur looking good in the fine pieces.

Arthur dipped his hand into the basket and flung out a velvet neckerchief. “New clothes.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. “I thought we agreed I wouldn’t get new clothes until– Oh!” He looked up from his activity, resulting in him being blinded by Arthur’s smile. “It’s happening?”

“The council finally concurred that they were being idiots.”

“They won’t boycott?”

“No, unless they want a night in the dungeons.”

Merlin carefully placed the armour down and sprung up from his seat. He pulled Arthur into a hug, before pulling away and kissing him.

“Thank goodness. I thought it might take years,” Merlin said as Arthur held him.

“We’re truly blessed by the Triple Goddess.”

“Yeah, we are.”

Arthur planted a kiss on Merlin’s cheek. “A year ago… none of this would have been possible.”

“A year ago, we were different people. Camelot was a different place.”

“And now… we’re who we’re meant to be, and magic is everywhere.” Arthur pulled away from the hold and turned to basket, sorting through it. “Did you get into contact with the Druid camps?”

“I did.”

“What did they think?”

“They thought it was a good idea. Enough have powerful magic, we can bring about real change to how people practise the Old Religion.”

“Well, at least how priests and priestesses do.”

“They have also agreed that the Isle of the Blessed is the best place. But we need to meet with them next week.”

“Seems good.” Arthur made an ‘aha’ noise once he had found what he was looking for. He pulled a blue cloak out of the basket. It was fairly similar to a Pendragon cloak, except blue and instead of the Pendragon crest, a sliver symbol with a fireball interlocking a staff with a butterfly above donned it.

Merlin took in the rich blue of it, being only a shade darker than his vibrant (less vibrant nowadays) blue tunic. “Wow…”

“You could always wear a Pendragon cloak, if you want, but I thought something to do with magic would be more suiting. A crest of your own.”

“Arthur… it’s perfect.” He gave Arthur another hug, squeezing a bit tighter that time around. “You know me too well.”

Arthur let out a small laugh. “Good, I should.” He pulled away just enough to see Merlin. “After all, we’ll soon be married.”

“Can’t wait.”

First came the meeting. Merlin and Arthur were in the most central part of the Isle of the Blessed, standing where a veil once was. Where one of their own died. Groups of druids from many different camps filled the rest of the space. Many were sorcerers and from within their own groups, some were priests and priestess.

“But a new time _is_ here. With the high priests and priestesses of old being no more, it’s time for change. We firmly believe that the Old Religion relies on having what was once a prestigious system,” Arthur announced, finishing off his long speech.

Merlin smiled as it was his turn to speak. “Now, it is up to you and your people to take such a mantle. Your high priests and priestesses can revive the Isle of the Blessed to its former glory. Allow a place where the Old Religion thrives freely.”

“We wouldn’t carry out half the traditions and rituals, for dark magic is not within our needs,” one druid called from the crowd. She looked a lot like Sefa.

“Nor would we want you to,” Arthur said. “But it is important that the knowledge is kept.”

“So this is it…? The new dawn for Old Religion…” another druid said, who happened to be the seer from Iseldir’s camp.

“Yes. I don’t know what processes you would undertake, but this falls to you now.”

Some of the druids smiled, some nodded along, some even seemed excited. But now that the speech was done, it was like they had used telepathy all at once, because they all began to chant ‘Long live the Kings’ over and over, in sync. A few had a glint in their eye, a smirk on their lips, like the sentence meant much more than any were willing to tell. Long live… Maybe it had more of a meaning to them.

Nevertheless, Merlin and Arthur began to mingle with the druids, talking to them, getting to know them. It was good, this. Becoming familiar with some of the most powerful sorcerers around, not that they hesitated to tell Merlin and Arthur that they were weaker than the two, but it was only marginal in some cases. And some of those people were soon going to revive many of the old practices. A new nine would be formed, eventually.

Merlin came up to one chieftain, who had long brown hair and was still quite young. “Sefa…” he said as she turned to him.

She curtsied. “Your Highness.”

“I see you’re now the leader of the Idirsholas Clan.”

“My father once led it, before he became a renegade. You must know, I never wanted to do what I did…”

“But he was your father, and you would have done anything for him?”

“Yes… Thank you for being understanding.”

“We’ve all… done things we regret.” Merlin smiled, pushing the subject aside. “In your clan, who do you think will try to become one of the new nine?”

Sefa glanced around and smiled at one of the younger women in her group. “Kerri. She has a talent that is better than most.”

“Good. I hope to see her as a High Priestess one day.”

Sefa smiled. “Yeah, I hope so too.”

As Merlin and Arthur left the druids to their devices, they headed on home. The Isle of the Blessed was simply waiting to be turned into a place of wonder, a place of magic once more. Merlin and Arthur were certainly excited for such a thing.

At home, things were increasingly becoming different. Wedding preparations were underway, which resulted in Merlin testing out his new clothes so that the seamstresses could be put at easy. Some maids even fussed about what Merlin was going to wear rather than what Arthur was going to wear. And with the wedding being a week away, the castle became a place of pure chaos.

The cooks were overloaded. The servants were running back and forth trying to sort things out. And Merlin and Arthur were trying to escape everyone asking their opinion on _everything_. So, they ended up going on many ‘hunting trips’ which were actually just rides or walks out in the forest. It was an easy escape, and sometimes, it took the knights to smuggle them out of the castle for respite.

Somehow, the week blew over and the madness had settled. The final touches were added to the throne room, as the flowers had to be placed. Merlin and Arthur, one the other hand, were slowly waking up.

“Morning,” Merlin uttered, placing a kiss on Arthur’s nose.

Arthur turned to the curtains and opened them slightly, with his eyes. “It’s barely dawn.”

“And how do you expect me to sleep a second longer on a day like this?”

“Some of us like our sleep.”

Merlin grinned, and the curtains burst open, flooding light into the room. “Too late.”

Arthur took his pillow and whacked it down on his face. “I hate you.”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely. That’s why you’re marrying me today.”

“Mm.” He lowered the pillow and instead grabbed Merlin, pulling him down into a kiss. “And what a good day it’ll be.”

Once the two were fully awake and out of bed, the ball was set in motion for a day of wonders. With the best clothes on, and their cloaks on their backs, they were stylish, comfortable and ready for action. That action being publicly making their love known, even with the changing attitudes.  

Though it was obvious Merlin really wasn’t used to his cloak, so Arthur straightened it and sorted it out for him, getting it all neat for the ceremony of the century. After he was done, he attacked Merlin with a hug from behind, wrapping his arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his temple. Merlin nearly choked with the surprise of it but ended up laughing.

“I can’t believe we’re getting married. Me and you, actually getting _married_.” Arthur pressed his head against Merlin’s, heeding warmth.

“We’ll change things for everyone, _again_.” He turned in Arthur’s hold, to see him. “People will realise it is fine to marry another man or marry another woman.”

“It will matter to so many.”

“A marriage to change a kingdom.”

Arthur lightly kissed Merlin on the lips. “Yes.”

Before they set out for the throne room, a knock echoed through Arthur’s room, and while Merlin arched an eyebrow, Arthur grinned. He went to the door opening it, letting several servants with potted plants in their arms to enter the room. They placed the pots filled with flowers on the table, leaving immediately.

“And what is this?”

“All the flowers you never got me.” He smirked. “Remember that time I risked my life to bring you a flower? You’ve never risked so much to bring me colourful plants.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, grinning. “Maybe because you’re prat who doesn’t deserve flowers.”

He gasped placing his hand to his chest. “How dare…” His fake dramatics dissolved into a smile as a strange, bizarre idea popped into his head. Okay, really, he had thought about it for some time. He went to one of the flowers, a tulip. “ _Gewixle_.”

The tulip sparked up in a light, and when it faded, it was no longer white but instead, blue with silver edges. Halfway up, the leaves morphed into small staffs with a blue crystal. Arthur smiled at his work, quite proud of the result he had imagined for ages.

Merlin approached the table, staring at the flower. “What… did you do to that poor flower?”

“I made it better. It’s a representation of you.”

“Hmm.” Merlin looked to another tulip. “ _Gewixle_.”

After the light faded from this tulip, it was red with golden edges. And instead of staffs at the tip of the leaves, swords were there instead. Arthur raised an eyebrow to them, feeling along the edge, only to notice it was blunt.

“Pretty,” he said, with a blinding smile.

“A flower to represent ourselves…” Merlin looked down at his cloak. “What else do we need? Brooches, penda–” He cut himself off as he noticed a glint in Arthur’s eyes. “Alright, note to self, I can’t give you any ideas.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

Merlin bopped him on the nose. “Stop.”

“With that said…” Arthur took his hand, “we have a wedding to attend.”

Within the throne room, half of Camelot was present as well as a few guests from other kingdoms. The two stood opposite each other, with Geoffrey beside them. In the front rows were their family –Hunith, Gaius and Alice – and their friends, Gwen, Gwaine, Leon, Elyan and Percival. Behind them, was everyone else.

As the procedure began, consuming smiles took over the two and that happiness radiated down the room, adding a wondrous joy to the air that no one could truly define. And if you were to define it, the only word you could use was, magical.

And with words of ‘it is’ replying to a question, Geoffrey had to say that one thing, that one sentence. He was sure that it would be easy to gloss over. No one would say anything, no one would stand out. No one would have a cause to reject what was happening before them.

“Do any say nay?”

Two men stepped out from the crowd, with crossbows in their arms, aiming at Merlin and Arthur. Their mouths twisted into smiles of hate, like they were justified in what they were about to do.

“Nay,” one shouted as he shot his bolt, the other doing the same. The two were in sync, and from the looks of it, had practiced for this moment.

The bolts came hurdling towards them, but, from pure instinct, Merlin and Arthur stopped the bolts, but happened to stop the one heading for the other. The bolts crumbled up and smashed against each other, falling to the ground. The whole crowd had gone through a thousand emotions at once. But the main one was shock. Merlin and Arthur were sorcerers. What a revelation. The knights breathed out sighs of relief, while the guards came up to the two assassins and held them firmly.

The knights had all withdrawn their swords but a glance from Arthur told them to stand down. Gwaine looked ready to pounce on the two men, but Percival squeezed his arm, calming him. Even Leon and Elyan looked like they wanted to drive their swords through the men’s hearts.

Arthur came down the steps, approaching the two. “Well, that wasn’t clever, now was it?”

One of the men tried to spit at him, but Arthur really wasn’t done. His magic kicked in, making the spit turn back and hit the man square in the face. “ _Fucking bugger_.”

“Say something like that again…” Arthur got right up in his face, “and I’ll kill you myself. Is that understood?”

“Perfectly,” the other said, grimily.

He stepped away. “Take them to the dungeons.”

The guards hauled the men away, taking the crossbows with them. The whole crowd had wide eyes, staring at the two bolts that lay awkwardly on the stairs. Of course, the people that knew were merely glad the two had survived the endeavour. Hunith, Gaius and Alice had almost jumped out of their skins.

Merlin shook his head. “Two assassins _would_ try to ruin our day.”

“Can’t have a day’s rest, can we?” Arthur let out a small laugh as he re-joined Merlin at the altar.

Geoffrey coughed, glancing all around. Not only did the duo just reveal that they were sorcerers, they had almost been killed too. “Do you not want to take a break? You nearly died.”

“We’re fine,” Merlin said, his eyes scanning over the people. “They’re fine too.”

“No assassins will ruin this day.”

“Alright…” Geoffrey regained his composure. He had to shake off what had happened, especially because Merlin and Arthur seemed unfazed. Like they weren’t victims of an assassination attempt only minutes ago. “As we gather here today, we are all witness to this rite.”

Geoffrey turned, grabbing the garland. He knew he was shaking because of the recent events. So, instead of complaining about it, mentioning it, or looking shocked, he placed the middle of the garland atop their hands. “With this garland, I do tie a knot, and by doing so, bind your hands and your hearts for all eternity.” He tied it around their hands, finally stilling his shaking.

From there, the rest of the ceremony went smoothly. Well, it did for Merlin and Arthur. Most of the audience, however, were sort of out of it. Not entirely sure how they should take the assassination attempt, the magic reveal and the calmness of the two.

Nevertheless, traditional vows were said (and the air of sarcasm about them was definitely not heard) and smiles were bright. When it came for Geoffrey to pronounce them husbands, they kissed with such lightness, with such love. The very stuff oozed off them, like the world around them had stopped to give a round of applause before continuing on with its day.

Though, as the kiss came to a close, the true applause came. The room erupted with it, even if some claps were slow and filled with confusion. The friends and family in the front row were as happy as one could be. Their applause was louder, grander, truer. They were all privy to the knowledge of how much this meant to the two, how much it meant to them for everyone this freed. Because it was something from the core, this, but it was something political too. Not that Merlin and Arthur would admit that, but it was.

They had beaten the council. Beaten the changing attitudes. They most certainly weren’t going to let anyone get in the way of true progress, taking back from the changing times to restore the needed practices of love, and only love. It may have been a chemical, a dangerous one at that, but people loved to fall in love, that much was true.

Geoffrey turned and produced a sliver crown, glistening with gems that were cool colours. This crown, this beautiful thing, it had been made new. Just for Merlin, _only_ for Merlin. The greens, blues and purples against the shining sliver of the crown, allowed for a piece that brought out all of Merlin’s best features, and Arthur was proud of the thing.

“ _This crown is the last thing_ , _I promise_. _No brooches_ , _pendants or any other type of jewellery_. _No more weird flowers_. _This is the last one_ ,” Arthur echoed in Merlin’s mind.

“ _That’s a lie and you know it_.”

Arthur smiled as he took the crown, while Merlin kneeled, smiling with glee. Ahh, yes, the only time he would kneel in public for his king.

“By the sacred laws vested in me, I crown you Merlin, King of Camelot.”

He offered his hands and Merlin took them, standing back up. They turned to their audience, who were still slightly fazed, but, nevertheless, they didn’t hesitate to spark up in a chorus of ‘Long live the Kings’ like the druids had only a week ago. But, on a measure of who said it first in the audience, Gwaine won by a mile.

Most headed to the banquet hall after that, where music filled the air and resonated off the walls. Of course, for dramatic entrances, Merlin and Arthur were the last in. As they entered, the banquet hall roared with another applause.

Hunith came up to the two fairly quickly, being followed by Gaius and Alice. Merlin found that his face was being held and looked at by Hunith, as she made sure he was definitely, one hundred percent okay.

“Mother, I’m fine.”

“You can’t blame me for worrying. Those bolts were heading straight towards you two.” She turned to Arthur and had a quick glance over him.

“Hunith, I can assure you, we’re fine.” He smiled. “We’ve been through worse.”

Merlin elbowed Arthur in the ribs. “Don’t worry my mother.”

Arthur rubbed at the affected area. “Don’t elbow your husband.”

“Ah, a quarrel.” Hunith smiled brightly.

Gaius shook his head at the two, turning to Hunith. “These two always bicker like an old married couple.”

“But it’s the devotion that makes people believe in them,” Alice said.

“Of course. I saw it when they were in Ealdor. Two sides of the same coin.”

Merlin and Arthur looked to each other, raising their eyebrows.

“Hold on,” they said at once, “what?”

“In your obliviousness, we all saw the truth,” Hunith said.

Gaius nodded, with a smirk ghosting his lips. “Gwaine earned most of the betting money.”

“Betting?!” Arthur exclaimed, glancing over to Gwaine who was already drinking way more than his fair share.

“Yes, betting. People have been betting since Merlin first saved your life, Arthur. I think the whole citadel had money in at one point. It was localised at The Rising Sun.”

Arthur grasped Merlin’s hand. “Come on, I have a bone to pick with Gwaine.”

“Oh god. Arthur, why?”

“I have many questions.”

Merlin was effectively dragged away, so he sent a shrug towards his mother, Gaius and Alice, who only smiled and mouthed ‘good luck’ to him. When they arrived at Gwaine’s side, he was already swaying. His speech was fine, but it took Percival to keep him up. The other knights had journeyed off elsewhere.

“How much did you earn from the bet, Gwaine?” Arthur asked.

Gwaine suddenly stood up straight, sobering up by a million. “Who told you?!” His eyes glazed before jumping to one person. “ _Gaius_ ,” he whispered under his breath, a devilish tone hid behind his words.

“Answer the question,” Arthur said, sweetly.

Gwaine looked up to Percival, begging him to carry him away, but Percival only smirked and left Gwaine to the beast. “Um. A hundred gold coins.”

Merlin’s eyes went wide. “How much _was_ in that betting pool?”

“It had been going on for _years_. We’re talking from since you arrived, Merlin, up to when you announced the wedding. And no, the rumours didn’t count, even though everyone knew you were together. It had to be official somehow, that was the rules.”

“How did you win so much?” Arthur wondered, stroking his chin.

“He made sure to keep putting money in,” Leon said, approaching the group.

“I… knew it to be true.” Gwaine smiled yet narrowed his eyes. “That quest I was brought along on… I knew then of your feelings.” He whistled and blew out a breath. “When that door closed, you looked desperate, Arthur. Very desperate. And even when you were rude to Merls here, he looked like he was ready to eat you up…” He let a smirk pull at his lips. “So much pent-up energy...”

Arthur nodded and smiled. “I’m satisfied with that answer.”

Merlin knitted his eyebrows. “And what was the point?”

“If anyone should win the most from a bet about us, it should be Gwaine.”

Gwaine looked taken aback. “That’s… Why?”

“You first met us in a tavern, it’s your world.” Arthur suddenly noticed that Elyan had also joined the group. “How much did the rest of you win?”

“Not as much as Gwaine,” Elyan said. “Leon won the second largest amount, and if he was still here, Lancelot would have got the third.”

“Even Lancelot?” Merlin said, disbelieving.

Gwaine smiled. “Of course, he had seen as much evidence as the rest of us.”

“Percival, Elyan, how much did you earn?” Arthur asked, with genuine curiosity.

“I got the seventh largest amount, Elyan got the fifth,” Percival said. “It was Audrey that got the fourth and I believe it was someone called… Sir William of Deira who got the sixth.”

Arthur put his head in his hands while Merlin chuckled away to the point that tears formed at his eyes.

“Sir– Deira– William– We created him!” Merlin cried out, laughing his head off. “Sixth! I bet he was glad!”

Arthur could barely keep his laughter at bay. “He was a farmer that we dressed up for the jousting tournament. We used him as a cover so that I could be treated the same.” He finally broke out in laughter. “He observed far more than we gave him credit for.”

Leon furrowed his brows. “Sir William of Deira was you?!”

“I wanted to be treated the same, so I did what I could.”

“But you gave him all the glory.”

“He deserved it.”

Merlin laughed. “We put him through a lot in a short space of time.”

They fell into an easy conversation and soon enough, Merlin and Arthur peeled off to speak with other guests. Once they found wine and some food, they were fully set to go find more people. Though, they hovered for some time, glancing over all their guests.

Merlin took an in depth look around, spotting many women with blonde hair. “Uh, you made sure not to invite Vivian, right?”

Arthur cringed. “Yes. I made sure.”

“Do you think her spell will ever be broken?”

“I don’t want to know. I’m afraid of the answer.”

“We should see if we can break it in any other way.”

“Yes… It’s unfair that her life has been halted.” He sighed. “Do you think she’ll remember how many years it has been?”

“I’d dread to think.” Merlin’s eyes settled on someone. “Oh, I’ve just spotted Gilli.”

“Go. I’m sure I’ll find someone to talk to.”

As Merlin scampered off to speak with his old, could he call him a friend? Well, I suppose he could. Anyhow, as he spoke with Gilli, Mithian approached Arthur. She had a goblet of wine in her hand and a large grin upon her lips.

“I see who trumps a princess now. No woman would have ever truly won your favour,” she said, her grin only widening.

“It was… difficult to be true to myself at that time.”

“Yes… But you’re true to yourself now. Especially since you and Merlin revealed that you’re both sorcerers. I’m surprised you would learn about the art.”

“I learnt, yes, but my magic has always been a part of me. I only couldn’t access it until a year ago.”

Mithian raised her eyebrows while sympathy settled in her eyes. “Oh… Well, I’m glad you’re safe to be yourself now.”

“Yeah… Me too.”

She lifted her chin, thoughtfully. “You know, what you and Merlin share, in ways of what you have in common and your love, I think it has powers to change all the kingdoms around.”

“ _All_ the kingdoms?”

“Yes. A king marrying another man is bound to make people more accepting, reverting changing attitudes.”

“For everyone’s sake, I hope that’s true.”

“I’m also sure other royals will follow suit.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “Like princesses, for example?”

“Mm, don’t get too smart. _I’m_ supposed to be the perceptive one.”

“ _Really_?”

“Yes. It simply took me a few days to realise Merlin’s opinion matters to you more than anyone else’s. We all may as well have our mouths sewn shut in comparison.” She smiled once more, and Arthur only furrowed his brow.

“You worked that out in your time here?”

“Easily. You and Merlin are unique, it wasn’t much of a leap.”

“I suppose that makes you perceptive then.”

“I aim to keep my mind and eyes open for any possibility.” She raised her goblet. “For now, however, I’m going to watch someone pretty from afar.”

“And who may that be?”

She began to walk off. “Be perceptive and find out.”

Arthur opened his mouth to call out, but thought better of it, instead he turned on his heal, immediately seeing Elena bark out a laugh at what someone was saying. Her hair was much neater nowadays, as she kept it in plaits, but her dresses were clearly designed with practicality in mind. Her skirts appeared to have large slits in places, to allow for more movement, and revealed that she wore trousers underneath as well. Very tomboyish indeed.

“Elena, I see you’re as beautiful as ever,” Arthur greeted once she was on her own.

She half choked on the wine she had been sipping at, regaining composure quickly after. “Since I learnt the truth of what truly happened to me, I knew that looking pretty was only a formality.” She brushed a hand through her smooth hair. “Although, having tatty hair is something I gladly left behind.”

Arthur smiled. “Any chance you would be willing for another race?”

Elena snorted so loud that it turned heads. “As long as you don’t use magic to cheat, I’ll win, easily.”

“Make sure you do, his ego needs to be shrunk down,” Merlin said, coming up to the two.

“Excuse me? My ego is perfectly fine.”

“Of course it is, dear,” he said as he shook his head, causing Elena to snort again.

“Challenge accepted,” she said. “Tell me when and where and we’re good to go.”

“Tomorrow afternoon?”

“Perfect.”

She winked at the two, said that their wedding was amazing and peeled off, heading towards a group of people, in which Mithian was amongst them. Elsewhere, people were enjoying the music and food, not that there was much food left. Already, plates had been cleared. Arthur caught sight of Lord Benen and Lady Germaine, having a quick and joyful chat with them.

Then, Merlin and Arthur found themselves on their own again, by a wall, sipping at wine and looking around, trying to catch a few people together.

“I’ll give you that one…” Merlin said. “But I’ll raise you this, for the past hour, Elena and Mithian have been chatting and seem very, very close.”

Arthur’s eyes darted around until they settled on the two, who were sitting down beside each other, a hair’s breath away from one another. “A slight breeze would make them kiss.”

“I think they would make a good couple. They both like the outdoors. Mithian loves hunting, Elena loves riding. They already have something in common.”

“Merlin.” Arthur tapped Merlin on the shoulder, casually pointing to a corner, where Gwaine and Percival were passionately kissing.

“Finally, they’ve gone public.”

“Oh, and, Elena and Mithian.”

Looking back to where they were staring before, Elena and Mithian shared a brief, light kiss. Both of them giggled a little before kissing more and hands were going everywhere.

“I see people are learning to be themselves,” Gwen said, appearing by the two.

Merlin leant his head on Arthur’s shoulder. “It’s about time.”

“Hm.” She glanced over to where a sorcerer was creating lights in the air and looked to Elena and Mithian who were back to talking, smiling brightly. “With two decisions, you’ve changed everyone’s lives for the better.”

“A fair and just land,” Arthur said, quietly. “Where no one is too different.”

Merlin lifted his head, grinning. “Oh, look, Gwen, he’s getting progressive.”

“I am progressive!”

Gwen let out a small laugh but frowned after. “How are you both, really? After what happened…?”

“We’ve been through worse,” Merlin said. “Far worse.”

“And we defended ourselves… Even if it means half of Camelot knows we’re sorcerers now. It was bound to come out at some point.”

“How well do you think people are taking it?”

Arthur glanced over the people in the hall. “Lord Benen gave me and Merlin a hug. A few others mentioned it, but the rest all ignored it.”

“That’s good to hear, I think.” Gwen looked around. “Your wedding has really made people confident.”

“I think I saw Elyan chatting with Sir Geraint before, they looked close,” Merlin mentioned

“Those two have been dancing around each other for some time. Maybe they’ll actually do or say something now.” She smiled as she set eyes on her brother. “In fact… I think I’ll go persuade him.”

“Good luck,” Arthur called as Gwen darted off towards her brother.

Merlin and Arthur quickly fell back into their guessing game. Who would be the next pairing to come out of that day? Who knew? But the evening was in full swing in no time at all. The two had not left the wall for many hours, and as some had retired for the night, they were running out of people for their game.

Gwaine happened to stumble over to their wall, giddy as all hell. “Have you _SEEN_ what your wedding has done?!”

“We’re aware,” Arthur said, grinning at the shaking with happiness Gwaine.

“It’s _AMAZING_!” He put either hand on one of their shoulders. “You two have changed allll our lives! The princesses, the knights, even the servants! You two were made to change the _world_!” He smiled brighter than all the light in the hall. “Have a breath-taking night!” He removed his hands, winked, turned on his heel (almost falling over) and stalked back over to Percival, slinging an arm around his waist, kissing his cheek.

“I’ve never seen Gwaine so drunk… And I didn’t think that sentence could ever be said,” Merlin said, joy radiating from him.

“He’s right, though. This does change a lot, and it’s strange to think about. The land is becoming less accepting of older practices… I fear soon relationships such as ours will be forever forbidden. For now, however, we’ve halted that change.”

“Hopefully for centuries.” Merlin hooked his arm around Arthur’s. “Come on, Gwaine reminded me that this is _our wedding night_.”

Of course that night blew over like a storm, and the morning, well, it was a new place. A new territory. Merlin and Arthur were married. Camelot had two kings. Out of everything that could have happened, this wasn’t what anyone had predicted. For one, Arthur was meant to be dead by now, and Merlin was supposed to be alone. But they were together, safe and sound. To a certain degree, they still had the matter of the mysterious assassins.

But they hardly wanted to be plagued by that first thing in the morning. So, after Arthur got revenge by getting the curtains to burst open, he left a groaning and complaining Merlin to go get breakfast. Audrey was surprised to see him in the kitchen but made him promise not to steal anything as she went to get their breakfast tray.

“Getting your husband breakfast in bed, Sire?” Audrey asked.

Arthur chuckled. “I woke him up first. He blinded me with sunlight yesterday, I thought I’d return the favour.”

She handed the tray over, laughing. “Would it be treason to say he deserves it?”

“No. No it would not.”

With a slam of a tray and sliver clanging off wood, Merlin pulled the covers over his head and placed a pillow around his ears. Of course, it did nothing to block out the sound, and he could practically feel Arthur smirking to high heaven.

“Wakey-wakey,” Arthur said as he pulled the covers off Merlin.

“No. This is evil, Arthur, pure evil.”

“ _Oh_? So it’s alright when you do it, but not when I do it?”

“Exactly.”

A grape lifted from the tray of food and flew across the room, hitting Merlin right in the forehead. The little projectile may have caused a bit of pain, but Arthur had gotten enough revenge for now, so he headed to the table and began laying it out. He ignored the mass of flowers at the other end, except for the part where he had turned all the tulips into the magical flowers. What would they be called? Staff tulips and sword tulips?

Anyhow, the names of weird flowers didn’t matter, as Merlin finally made his way over to the table, throwing the grape at Arthur.

“Why so much revenge?”

Arthur smiled sweetly. “I thought I’d start our marriage right. Which is, finally getting back at you for all the times you annoyingly woke me up.”

“Hmm.” Merlin smirked as he lobbed a bit of cheese in his mouth. “What if I got revenge for you getting revenge?”

“Then we’ll get stuck in an endless cycle and we both don’t want that.”

“Fair enough.”

As the two ate and teased each other for their first breakfast after getting married, Merlin began to have a look over the flowers, seeing which ones needed water. Meanwhile, Arthur was having a look through his jackets, deciding which one was best for the warmth of the spring air.

“A jacket won’t make you win a race,” Merlin called from the table.

“Shut up.”

“Elena will win.”

Arthur pulled out his best hunting jacket and threw it on. “I know that. Even with all the magic in the world, I wouldn’t be able to beat her skill. She must gallop through Gawant’s forests every day.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her. We all know she hates being an everyday princess.” Merlin delicately held the stem of a broken flower, whispering a few words, fixing it instantly.

“Mm, I’m really going to lose, aren’t I?” He approached Merlin, smiling.

“You’re in a good mood, considering you know you’re going to lose.”

“Losing a race is nothing compared to the joy of _finally_ being married to man I love.”

Merlin snorted. “That was cheesy.”

Arthur pulled him into a kiss. “I know.”

With two good horses, Elena and Arthur set out a track. Head into the woods, circle around, come back through the main route, finish in the courtyard. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, for Elena at least.

Atop their horses, Elena sent Arthur a smirk and set off, leaving Arthur trailing behind. Fairness was not in this game, as Elena knew Arthur could catch up but not keep with her impeccable pace. Once they were in the trees, Arthur had managed to close the gap, but Elena was enjoying herself far too much to care. With the wind in their hair, they circled around in no time at all. Arthur was _just_ behind Elena, unfortunately for him, she really was a master at riding, and the two finished in the courtyard, of course, with Elena in first.

Merlin was standing on the steps, applauding Elena as he came down them. “Thank god you won, Elena, I’d hate to think what his ego would have been like if you hadn’t.”

Elena jumped off her horse, gave it a pet and approached Merlin, smiling. “Aw, well, his ego is firmly bruised now.”

Arthur rolled his eyes as he moved towards the two. “As I said before, my ego is fine.”

“Hmm. It is now that Elena beat you.”

He ignored the comment and instead narrowed his eyes, looking to Elena. “So… you and Mithian?”

She smiled as a blush took over her features. “Yeah...”

“Do you think something will come of it?” Merlin wondered, his mouth quirked upwards as he saw a small smile pull at Elena’s lips.

“I hope so. She’s… wonderful.”

Arthur grinned. “Go get her then.”

She broke out in a large smile. “Okay… Okay!” And suddenly, she was off into the castle, with more grace in her run than anyone had ever seen.

“They’ll be good together,” Merlin said.

“Yeah, they will.” Arthur’s smile faltered as a frown arrived. “I was thinking of questioning the assassins today.”

“We should, sooner rather than later. Someone could have sent them.”

Ahh, the dungeons. A place that smelt like something had died one hundred years ago and had been left to rot. A place where the criminals stayed until a sentence came along. A place where two assassins sat in a cell, shackled to a wall, with grins on their faces.

Merlin and Arthur arrived at the cell, leaning against the wall opposite it. They looked as if they never wanted to give the assassins the time of day, but they had to. So, it was best to get it over with quickly.

“Who are you?” Arthur questioned, folding his arms.

The guy who had tried to spit at Arthur, smiled, showing his near perfect teeth. “I’m Carney, he’s Egan. We’re knights from a kingdom… Guess which one.” His smile twisted.

“One of the Five Kingdoms?” Merlin asked, stepping away from the wall.

“Ooo. How very clever.”

“Olaf’s kingdom?”

Egan laughed. “Looks like the king married a smart one. Yes.”

“Why the games?” Arthur said, also stepping towards the cell.

Carney shrugged. “We’re going to die, why not have fun?”

“Was it Vivian who sent you?” Merlin further questioned, his inkling was niggling at him.

“Does it matter? It was someone, no one.”

Arthur nodded. “So it was Vivian.”

Egan fervently shook his head. “No. Hardly. Absolutely not.”

Carney sighed and shot a look at Egan. “Okay… No more games. It was Vivian that sent us. She’s demanding in her enchantment and threatened to get our heads chopped off if we didn’t comply.”

“She believed you were betraying her wholeheartedly by marrying another man,” Egan continued, huddling in his space. He was only young, young and stupid. “With Guinevere, she thought it was okay, but with Merlin…” He shook his head, staying silent.

“Out for blood, that’s what she was.”

“You must have known it was suicide either way,” Arthur said, finding it hard to feel sympathetic for the two.

“We had others there, to protect us. And don’t ask, they haven’t done anything wrong,” Carney admitted. “That’s all we know, just sentence us already.”

“You’re knights from another kingdom; it isn’t for us to sentence you. King Olaf will decide your fate.”

Arthur and Merlin immediately left the dungeons after that, making it back to their room. Arthur let out a shuddering breath and collapsed into a chair, putting his head in his hands.

“We _have_ to do something about this. She’ll never stop,” he said.

Merlin paced over to the window, looking out. “We can only do one thing. Find a spell.”

“I thought the spell could only be broken by love.”

“Maybe Kilgharrah was wrong. Maybe there are less obvious ways, more difficult ways, to solve something.”

A spell book came flying onto the table, in front of Arthur, and flicked open to the love spells section. He took an in-depth read of all the small print, the spells, everything. He didn’t skim, he took it all word by word. There was no rush, well, unless Vivian was planning to send more people to kill them.

Merlin, on the other hand, had gone down to see Gaius, to ask if there had ever been any books that were solely for love spells. As it had become increasingly obvious in the last year that, spell books weren’t burnt at all. Some were, a lot were, but most had been hidden away. Now that magic was legal, they seemed to be everywhere again, even sold. And the library was full of them. A few sneaky sorcerers had hidden the books in a section cloaked by magic, not even Gaius knew they were there.

So, on Gaius’s advice, Merlin ended up in the library. Of course, the people who knew of the hidden section had opened it up, but decided to keep the books there, to allow for the information to be learnt freely. And Merlin, he was no stranger to searching through the library like a mad man. The books, luckily, had been kept in some sort of order, and a particular book on love spells was soon found.

By the time the evening rolled around, Merlin came crashing back into the room, book in hand. Arthur turned to him.

“I found a spell,” they both said at once.

“You did?” Merlin wondered, staring at his spell book like it had betrayed him.

“Mm.” Arthur pointed to some small writing below a picture. It was definitely a spell, but he pointed to one word in particular. “Onbindan, means to unbind or to set free, right?”

“Right…” He stared at the sentence. “I found the same spell. That’s been there this whole time?”

“Yes, but you wouldn’t have been able to do it anyway, it requires two people.”

“Kilgharrah and his stupid ideas,” Merlin grumbled as he sat next to Arthur, placing his book down, flicking to the page he needed. “I could have found someone.”

“And put someone else in danger?”

“We were all in danger then, it would have been a risk worth taking.” Merlin found his page, ignoring the sombreness his sentence brought. He pointed to a paragraph. “It goes into more detail here, but it _is_ the same spell.”

Arthur smiled. “I’ll contact King Olaf and tell him the good news.”

It was a different day when everything would come to light, where past mistakes were to be fixed. Desperation from an enchantment that was deeply rooted within a woman’s soul, would have to be relinquished. It was time to set her poor mind free.

As two knights were released from their cells and guided towards the courtyard, a convoy was coming in, fit for a Queen, King and princess. The whole family had come along this time, as it was one of the few ways to control the raging spell within her. Arthur and Merlin stood at the bottom of the steps, with the prisoners held by guards next to them. King Olaf had to hold Vivian down, to stop her from jumping out of the wagon.

“My love!” she called, and Arthur turned to Merlin, begging him to hide him. This was a terrible idea.

“It’s alright. Olaf won’t let her near you,” Merlin reassured, placing his hand at Arthur’s back.

Olaf and his wife held Vivian’s hand, holding her firmly so she wouldn’t escape their grasp. They finally left the wagon, approaching Merlin and Arthur, holding a writhing Vivian, who was only trying to get nearer to Arthur. Meanwhile, some guards from Olaf’s kingdom came up to the knights, taking them into their custody.

“I’m sorry about Sir Carney and Sir Egan. We had no idea,” Olaf said, trying to keep Vivian still.

“My love, have you called for me? Will you give up this man to be with me, my love?” Her eyebrows danced on her face, wanting reassurance from Arthur. But, instead, her mother turned to her and softly explained what was happening.

Olaf looked to his daughter with fear in his eyes. “Where should we do this?”

“Outside would be better,” Merlin said. “Is it okay if we do it here?”

“As long as our daughter is returned to us.”

Merlin and Arthur nodded and joined hands, glancing up to the sky. They gestured for Olaf and his wife to move slightly to the side but kept holding onto Vivian in order to keep her away from Arthur.

“ _Wé bebēodaþ sé oferrnægen onbindan þes frowe_ , _eowendende hie æt hire selfum_!” they said in sync, now looking at Vivian. A ball of light surrounded her chest, her heart in particular. It spread all around her, changing from white to gold as it moved. It came to consume her, before instantly fading. When blue washed over golden eyes, Vivian fell to the ground, her mother and father catching her as she went down.

Though, she wasn’t out for long as her eyes fluttered open. “Where– Where am I?!”

“Darling, what do you remember?” her mother asked.

“I was– I was– Oh _goodness_! I was enchanted!”

“Do you remember?” Olaf asked cautiously.

“For years…” she murmured. Then, she noticed Merlin and Arthur. “Oh thank god! The knights failed! Good, I picked the useless ones.”

Her mother smiled brightly. “There’s our Vivian.” She helped her up and Vivian stepped towards Merlin and Arthur.

“Hm. I suppose you look good together.” She tried her best to smile, even though her thoughts were screaming at her. “Thank you for freeing me. It was awful being enchanted to love _you_.” She laughed and turned away.

Arthur let out a breath as relief clouded him. “It was the least we could do, we couldn’t leave you like that.”

Olaf stepped forward, eagerly shaking their hands. “Thank you so much. I promise the knights will be dealt with and thank you for being so gracious with Vivian.”

“It wasn’t her fault,” Merlin said with an assuring smile.

“That’s very understanding of you.”

“We’re understanding people.” He smiled.

Olaf returned the gesture and made his way to the wagon, where Vivian and her mother were already seated at. They waved goodbye as all the horses turned and headed out of the courtyard, out of Camelot. Arthur stumbled back and sat on the steps, feeling waves of relief hitting him all at once. Vivian would no longer haunt him. That was a blessing.

He scrubbed his face as Merlin rubbed his back. “I’m glad that’s over.”

“Now we only have to wait for the next assassination attempt by someone else who wants us dead,” Merlin joked, gaining a little shove from Arthur.

“Don’t joke about it.”

“We’ll be fine.”

Merlin caught Arthur’s eyesight, adding a comforting smile, which, in turn, made Arthur smile as well. A small bit of reassurance in an eventful time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spells:  
> “Gewixle.” – Change.  
> “Wé bebēodaþ sé oferrnægen onbindan þes frowe, eowendende hie æt hire selfum.” – We command the heavenly force to unbind this woman, returning her to herself.


	6. Toast To Life

Eventful events continued on for the two, and Camelot as a whole. Weird occurrences happened every so often, along with the odd assassination attempt. Which, even if one of the two got injured, never killed them, no matter how severe the wound was.

It was a few months before the next major, close to home, issue arose.

A normal day, that’s what it was. While Arthur was stuck in meetings, Merlin had been summoned. Apparently, while Gaius was out, Alice needed Merlin’s assistance for a patient or two. As he journeyed down, he reminisced about the early days of running around left and right, delivering potions to people.

So, of course, he was surprised to see Alice standing in the middle of the room, wringing her hands, with no patients in sight. And before Merlin could even open his mouth, Alice stepped forward.  

“We have a problem… And it isn’t a medical one.”

“Oh?”

She sighed and sat down, dropping her head. “Gwen has released Lancelot’s spirit.”

“ _What_?”

“She heard the stories of the Horn of Cathbhadh and I… helped her. The poor woman is still heartbroken. I wanted to help.”

“What’s the issue?”

“The potion to let her see Lancelot seems to have long term effects. She’s becoming weaker with every passing day.”

Merlin brushed a hand through his hair. “Gwen would hardly return his spirit.”

“I know… So I did some research…”

Both Merlin and Arthur stood over a book, skimming through the words on a page. They absorbed the paragraphs, taking in the information. They couldn’t help but smile, though Arthur was quick to school it back. This was bizarre, bad even, why would anyone find a way?

“People used to do this?” he asked, his lips twisting into a scowl.

“It was forbidden, but yes. Some were selfish enough to restore a spirit… They were brought back to their state before dying. That’s why it’s frowned upon, as most died hours after being brought back,” Alice said.

Merlin tilted his head to the side. “Why does it work? Making the spirit into a physical form?”

“Because when a spirit has been released, it is neither alive nor dead. It’s easier to return a spirit to life from that state.”

Arthur nodded. “Any repercussions if it goes wrong?”

“If it doesn’t succeed, Lancelot _will_ be returned to the spirit world.”

Merlin sighed. “With this knowledge, we have to give Gwen and Lancelot this chance.”

“I agree.” Arthur looked to Alice with confidence in his eyes. “How do we make the potion?”

Gwen was in her room, chatting away, as clear as day. Lancelot was _right_ there. Only he wasn’t a physical being, he was a spirit. He had been freed from the spirit world, somewhere he didn’t belong, somewhere he shouldn’t have even _been_. But he had been noble and stuck to his word regardless of what it really meant. He died to save a kingdom but broke a heart in the process. And now? He was somewhat there, somehow real, but still so far from Gwen’s grasp.

“You’re telling me… that this knight died at the same time Arthur was told to embrace magic or else Camelot would fall? Well, it would only make sense if he condemned him to death by legalising magic,” Lancelot said, resting on his hand as he sat on the floor, while Gwen sat on her bed.

She shook her head. “Would it? How could Arthur do such a thing?”

“I suspect there is more to the story. Speculation will get us nowhere.”

A knocked rattled upon the door. Gwen shot Lancelot an apologetic look and opened the door, seeing Merlin and Arthur standing patiently. She stepped to the side, letting them in.

“Do you need something?” she asked.

Merlin stared at one section of the floor. “Hello Lancelot.”

Lancelot jumped up. “You can see me too?”

“Yes, we bared through that awful potion, _again_.” Arthur gaged at the mere thought of it. “How did you manage to take so much, Guinevere?”

“It tasted like my dad’s stew.” She smiled. “He was never a good cook.”

Only then did the two note her difference. She was far paler and could barely stand up straight without leaning on something. Her legs wobbled, her arms trembled, she needed to stop taking the potion.

“We’ve come with good news,” Merlin said, turning to Lancelot. “We can bring you back.”

Lancelot furrowed his brow, a hopeful smile appeared upon his lips. “You can?”

“It’s a ritual that requires strong magic. But, with Merlin and myself at your service, we’ll do just fine,” Arthur explained.

Lancelot’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t say Arthur had magic,” he said to Gwen.

“It wasn’t my place to.”

“It’s public knowledge,” Arthur countered, finding it hard to imagine Gwen _not_ telling Lancelot that snippet.

“Still wasn’t my place.”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Merlin said. There were more pressing matters than what Gwen told Lancelot and what she didn’t. “Lancelot, if this goes wrong, you will be returned to the spirit world. Do you want to go through with it?”

“If the potion really is weakening Gwen, then yes. We have to try.”

Gwen gave a slight smile. “I trust you both to bring him back.”

For the ritual, they had made their way to the throne room, for the space. While Gwen stuck to the wall, Merlin and Arthur took to drawing out a symbol on the floor. It was a triskelion, with various lines coming off it. These lines were delicate and detailed, and on the end, there were specific shapes. One consisted of a skull while another was a blossom. 

Once they were done, Lancelot walked into the symbol, standing right in the middle of it. Merlin and Arthur looked to each other, nodding to one another. They were ready. So, they joined hands, turned to Lancelot and guided their magic towards him.

“ _Lǣt þes gāst eftċyr æt hiera feorhbold_! _Lǣt lif flōwe þurh éénes má_!” they said at once.

As they uttered the spell, the symbol began glowing a blue which resembled a true blue, a true pigment. The light spurted up and moved towards Lancelot, coiling around him. As it covered him in bands, the light surged into his spirit form, blinding the three. They shielded their eyes and only looked back as the light died down.

“Lancelot!” Gwen called running away from the wall.

Yes, there he was, standing before them, looking exactly the same as before. He had his chainmail on, his hair short, his eyes noble.

Gwen collided into him, pulling him into a hug, grasping at the chainmail because _he was real_. He was there, with them, alive. Lancelot hugged back just as fiercely. All those years he had been dead, and now, he was back as if he’d never left.

“Thank god you’re no longer a spirit.” Gwen whispered.

“I missed your touch… I love you,” he said into her hair.

“I love you too.”

As Gwen – reluctantly – parted from Lancelot, he turned to Merlin, and the two hugged happily.

“Glad to have you back.”

“Glad to be back.”

And then it was Arthur’s turn, and Lancelot found himself in shock as he was pulled into a hug. There were a few pats before they separated and then, he received what he had been expecting, a forearm clasp.

Lancelot looked to Merlin. “What have you done to him?”

Merlin softly chuckled, grinning thereafter. “I showed him how to feel properly.”

Arthur opened his mouth to challenge, yet, clamped it shut. “He’s not wrong.”

“No come back? You really are getting soft,” Merlin said.

“Shut up, Merlin.”

Gwen chuckled. “There it is!”

Lancelot laughed also, echoing joy throughout the room. “Ahh, I missed their chemistry.”

Arthur couldn’t help but smirk. “You missed out on winning your money. You won the third largest amount.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Gwaine won the most didn’t he?”

“Absolutely.”

“What happened to my money then?”

“The knights used it to buy ‘free’ rounds for a week,” Merlin explained. It had been no small amount.

“ _A week_?”

Gwen smiled. “For the last year of the bet, more money went in than the years beforehand put together.”

“I got good odds when I put in my share… God, that’s ridiculous.”

“We know,” Arthur agreed.

Lancelot rubbed at his temples, taking everything in. “This is why I was jealous of the other spirits; I couldn’t _see_ what was going on.”

Arthur titled his head at that. “Why couldn’t you see? Uther knew everything when I accidentally released his spirit.”

“I wasn’t like other spirits. I never really _died_. I was in a more purgatory state. A bit like my spirit state. Not dead, not alive. I couldn’t see anything that went on outside.”

Merlin, in all his knowledge, spoke up. “I researched Samhain a while ago. The High Priestesses would always bring the person who closed the veil back.”

“That’s why? I should have been brought back?”

“Yes, you should have.”

Gwen wrapped her arm around Lancelot’s waist. “And now you’re back, so it all works out.”

Lancelot was allowed to rest for the duration of the day, as for the following one, the knights would know he was alive, and he needed plenty of energy for that. Best case scenario? Being dragged to the tavern. Worst case? Being dogpiled by every single knight.

The surprise was brilliant, as Arthur had the fantastic idea to just rock up to training with Lancelot at his side. Merlin went down with them, as he usually did (no one else would touch Arthur’s armour, it wasn’t allowed). As Lancelot swanned in, grinning like a madman, the knights grinded to a halt, with most of them dropping their swords,

He spread out his arms. “Is one of you going to hug me at least?”

Their jaws dropped further, but Leon, Elyan, Gwaine and Percival all made their way over, resulting in a massive group hug. They laughed in shock as they realised that this really was Lancelot, truly this time. Because Merlin and Arthur had huge grins on and watched with joy, sparking reassurance in everyone around.

And true to form, Gwaine grabbed Lancelot’s arm, talking about the tavern, the bet, how drinks were on him and how they were all going to celebrate well into the night. Other knights joined in with this celebration, but it was only the main knights of the round table that were overjoyed to see him. So much so that Arthur almost cancelled training there and then, but Lancelot countered, saying it would be suiting to train with everyone again.

After a few sparring matches, in which everyone took it easy on Lancelot (or they would like to say they did but Lancelot was always one of the best), the main lot sat on benches or the grass, all chiming in to talk to Lancelot, asking him questions, saying they missed him.

“So it was Gwen, _really_ ,” Gwaine said, smiling. “We owe it all to her!”

“Don’t forget we brought him back to his own body,” Arthur cut in, knowing he and Merlin had worked hard.

Gwaine twisted his mouth in thought for a second before shaking his head. “Yeah, but you two are warlocks, your part was easy.”

Lancelot let out a small laugh. “It was all three of them. I wouldn’t be here without plenty of magic.”

Leon smiled. “We really are glad to have you back.”

“You can tell me all I’ve missed over the years.” His eyes lit up as he glanced to Elyan. “I hear you and Geraint have something going on. Care to share?”

“Gwen’s a little rat,” he mumbled before smiling sweetly. “There’s nothing to share.”

Percival hit Elyan’s arm with a small whack, which was really a colossal whack to anyone but Percival. “Liar. Why do you two keep it a secret? I saw you in the armoury the other week, all loved up.”

He shrugged. “Geraint doesn’t want people to know…”

Merlin sighed in sympathy. “Is it because he stills works in the dungeons?”

“Partly because of that. The men in the dungeons aren’t exactly kind to…” He gestured vaguely, indicating that he meant their type of love.

“Then, if he wants to, I can promote him again. He’s still a knight and overqualified for the dungeons,” Arthur said.

Leon blew out a breath. “I took his place… All because he closed the doors, protecting people from those gargoyles.”

Arthur nodded, clasping his hands together. “Well, that’s sorted. I’m promoting your partner, Elyan.”

“He’s…” Elyan rolled his eyes. “Fine, he’s my partner.” He let himself smile brightly, barely noticing that he had. “I really like him.”

Lancelot broke out in a grin. “Aw, your blushing!”

“I am not!”

“You are,” everyone said at once, like some kind of demonic harmony.

As the knights went off to prepare for the celebration at the tavern, Lancelot dragged Merlin and Arthur to a secluded spot in the training grounds. The two were confused as to what Lancelot could want with them.

“Gwen was telling me about how all of this came to be. This new Camelot.” He folded his arms. “Did you sacrifice a young knight to save Camelot?”

Merlin looked to Arthur, asking questions with his eyes but Arthur only shook his head, taking the lead. “We… did sacrifice the knight, Mordred was his name… But not for Camelot. It’s…” He covered his eyes as the guilt took over him.

Lancelot furrowed his brow. “Then what?”

“If Mordred had lived, Arthur would be dead…” Merlin said. “We’re filled with so much guilt, I doubt it will ever leave us… It was known by Seers that Mordred was Arthur’s doom. _I_ was shown a vision of it. And then, I had been left a note by a future version of myself, saying that Arthur had to embrace the Old Religion. We– We had no choice.”

“I… It sounds like an impossible situation.”

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was… the hardest decision I have ever made.”

Lancelot cast a sympathetic look over them. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. I didn’t know it would affect you so greatly.”

Merlin glanced to the ground, shuffling his feet. “It’s important for us to remember…”

“I can only imagine,” Lancelot said.

Much later, everyone was in the tavern. They were seated by a corner, at the largest table in the house. Gwen was also with them; her chair being pressed up to Lancelot’s. They were a few rounds in and a couple of other knights had joined them, even Geraint was sitting by Elyan, publicly showing affection after the news that he’d be back up with the knights.

They laughed and joked, they felt at home. They teased Leon about not being in a relationship yet, while everyone around him was. He shrugged it off and said that he’d find someone eventually. They drank a bit but mainly played a few games, while Lancelot got to know everyone again. They went in-depth about everything and nothing, and mainly updated Lancelot so he’d know what had happened, who had died, what the laws had changed to and what weddings he had missed. Especially the royal wedding, which he actually did seem sad about missing.

And, eventually, it was Lancelot’s turn to get the round.

He waltzed over to the bar with grace, leaning on it. “What happened to my money, Evoric?” While he already knew, he wanted to hear it from the innkeeper himself.

Evoric nearly dropped the tankard he was passing to a customer. “Lancelot?!” he shouted, moving towards him. “Didn’t you die, twice?”

“Sort of. I wasn’t actually me the second time.”

“Ah.” Evoric smiled. “We used your money to have drinks on the house for all the knights.”

“How long did that last?”

“A week.”

“Figures.”

“It was your money, ask for it back in drinks.”

Lancelot considered that for a moment. The knights wouldn’t hesitate in buying him plenty of drinks. “How many drinks was it worth?”

“Two hundred and fifty.”

“O… kay…” He chuckled. “That’s a lot.”

“It was a lot of money.”

After Evoric spent a lot of time getting all the drinks ready, Lancelot asked Merlin for help. While he carried a couple of tankards, magic kicked in and made the rest float over. They all laughed at that and Lancelot found himself feeling glad that magic was so free, so lax.

“Any chance you can use magic to make my hair grow longer?” he asked, running a hand through.

Merlin let out a laugh. “I forgot you had long hair!”

“Short hair looks better on you… But your hair _is_ nice long…” Gwen said as she studied him. Lancelot smiled at her as she considered how he would look now with his old hairstyle.

“Would you really want that mop back?” Arthur wondered, chuckling.

“Someone has to rival Gwaine and Leon.”

Gwaine moved his head from side to side, letting his locks sway. “No one can beat my hair.”

Leon twisted a curl around his finger. “My hair can easily beat yours, Gwaine.”

“No, it cannot! My hair is the best in all the five kingdoms!”

Lancelot in his true noble way, interrupted. “It’s alright, you both have beautiful hair in its own way. Don’t get into a fight about whose hair is best, the clear winner is Arthur. His hairstyle hasn’t changed for the last decade.”

Arthur unconsciously touched his hair. “Has it not?”

Merlin raked a hand through it, but it only fell back into its previous position. “I don’t think it can change, it doesn’t move.”

“My point exactly,” Lancelot said, laughing along with the other knights.

Merlin kissed Arthur’s cheek. “Don’t let them wind you up. That’s my job.”

With that said, the table erupted in laughter and giggles. Joy was with them, and it lifted the morale of everyone around. A trusted knight was back, a loyal friend was back. It mattered so, so much. Truly, however, they had to get down to the celebratory stuff, the _real_ celebratory stuff. A salute.

Arthur raised his tankard. “A toast.” The rest raised their tankards as well. “To Lancelot.”

Gwaine shook his head. “To magic.”

“To life,” Leon cut in before anyone else could speak.

Everyone nodded. “To life,” they said in a chorus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spells:  
> “Lǣt þes gāst eftċyr æt hiera feorhbold. Lǣt lif flōwe þurh éénes má.” – Let this spirit return to their body. Let life flow through once more.


	7. Isle Of Stories

Time soon took hold. Gwen and Lancelot married within the year and it only took a few years more for Gwaine and Percival to do the same. Leon eventually found someone, a knight called Kay. It took another eight years for Elyan and Geraint to marry.

As the days, months and years rocked on by, there were sadder times too. Gaius and Alice succumbed to the woes of age, though, their last wish was to have a funeral at the lake of Avalon. That, in turn, changed funerals in Camelot. Most ended up being seen off at that lake (which may or may not have made the Sidhe angry for a while).

Children were growing up in a new place, where magic was seen as a force of _good_ , not evil. It was practised so freely, allowing all to see wonders. For anyone who had a natural talent, they were taught, mainly by druids, as some clans had moved into the city years ago. The Golden Age everyone had wished for? It was with them, fully. The lands were united, wars were sparse, magic was everywhere, life was good.

And soon, time had arrived at a point for questions that needed answers.

Laughter rang out from the kings’ chambers. They were casually eating dinner and having a fantastic time with it too. The day had been long and gruelling, with many a meeting and harsh training with the new knights. But, now, the two were alone and enjoying tea, landing on various topics of conversation that were completely random.

“Have you _seen_ Leon’s wrinkles?” Merlin said, grinning.

Arthur laughed into his goblet. “Yes. Have you seen everyone else’s? It’s like we aren’t aging in comparison.”

He stilled and shivered. “What if we’re not?”

Arthur slowly set his goblet down and stared at Merlin with a certain fear in his eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it? We’re in our mid-forties and we still look like we’re in our _twenties_.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Merlin stared into the distance, out the window. “There were many times where Gaius said, ‘no mortal has ever’, then I saw something I shouldn’t, or survived something I shouldn’t, or something along those lines…” He looked to Arthur. “Remember when we fought those bandits who had special crossbow bolts?”

Arthur’s brow furrowed so severely, it created the wrinkles he should have had. “Yes. The bolts were enchanted with powerful magic. Your point?”

“Some of the knights were struck with the same bolts as you and I were, they died in an instant.”

“We got lucky.”

“ _You_ were hit in the heart. Little healing magic was required, you just… survived.”

“I… Maybe it was a one off. You’re the most powerful warlock, I’m a close second… Our magic protects us.”

“No.” Merlin shook his head. “That wasn’t the only time. Not for me and not for you. We _both_ saw Avalon when making a true truce with the Sidhe. We survived that disease that wiped out that entire village when we stayed there for a fortnight. We don’t have any damage to the brain, yet we’ve been belted over the head with objects so powerful it would _kill_ anyone else.” He closed his eyes, losing energy over the conversation. “Do you want me to go on?”

“No…” Arthur stared at his wine. “Can we be certain?”

“We don’t know much of our own destiny’s, nor do we have many to tell us anymore. However, the High Priestesses may be able to tell us something.”

“They said I couldn’t go back.”

Merlin poked Arthur. “Because you broke their favourite pot, you oaf.”

“Well… you fixed it. There was no harm done.”

“I suppose it proved how clumsy you are.”

Arthur’s jaw dropped open. “Says you!”   

Merlin sat back in his chair. “We’re going.”

As the two kings prepared for another trip, everyone around was on edge. Yes, they were sorcerers, yes, they had survived everything else, but did they really have to go? They weren’t even taking their most trusted knights. They were going alone, towards the Isle of the Blessed, most were saying.

But while everyone else was cowering, a woman ran down the steps up towards Merlin and Arthur, who were readying their horses. This woman was definitely still fairly young but appeared to be edging towards her mid-twenties. Her hair was shorter than most, being more the length of Leon’s hair, or shorter. And her entire build looked to be muscular, like she trained alongside Arthur every day.

“You don’t have to go. I can tell you what you need to know,” she said.

“Larkin, no. This is beyond any knowledge you would have been taught,” Arthur said, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“I know of the legends to be, father.”

Larkin was eleven and had been staying with the High Priestesses when Merlin and Arthur had adopted her. While they hadn’t raised her, they impacted on her growth into an adult. Because of that, she showed her magic on her sleeve, showed feelings and expressed distaste well. She teased and mocked, all in good jest, but for people she really hated, she would bring out the harshest of insults. And she loved her fathers, so much so that it was hard to watch them go.

“But do you know when we will die?” Merlin asked, to which Larkin widened her eyes.

“You wonder if you’re immortal, don’t you?” She stroked her chin in thought. “Even I’m aging, but you look the same as when you took me into your care, twelve years ago… _Twelve_ , and you haven’t aged a single day.”

“We’ll find out. You will be the first to know when we do.” Arthur removed his hand, adding a nod of comfort.

Larkin sighed and nodded also, watching as her adoptive fathers climbed atop their horses. She echoed ‘good luck’ in their heads as they rode away. She was lucky, the two most powerful sorcerers were her family. They were a close unit, had been for many years.

As Merlin and Arthur left, Larkin went down to a familiar clearing. As she did, a creature that was about two metres shorter than Kilgharrah landed by her.

“Aithusa!” Larkin said, smiling.

Aithusa, meanwhile, smiled brightly before scowling. “What are our fathers doing now?”

\--

The Isle of the Blessed was much a different place in those days. No longer was it a ruin. Instead, it was a palace, a fairy-tale location. The fog that once harboured the lake was gone, being replaced with plenty of light. And the boat to get you to the island was much different. It was made of a lightly coloured wood and was covered in flowers, an inviting invitation. The palace on the other hand, once again had grand corridors, halls and rooms. There were plenty of places for all sorts of magic. Elemental to healing. Defensive to offensive. Those who were trained and taught there learnt what it meant to protect, especially if they weren’t powerful enough to become a high priest or priestess. Children grew up there, learning all there is to know, even dark practices of a time long gone. Not that anyone would carry out those archaic rituals or spells, but they knew of them.

Merlin and Arthur made it onto the island, feeling the magic crackle around them. Just stepping on the grass and noticing the aroma of flowers was enough to sense all the magic around. It was thick with it. And with all that, the new (not so new now) nine were aware of who had arrived. 

“Emrys and the Once and Future King! It is good to see you here,” a woman said as she stepped out of the palace entrance.

“Is it, Kerri?” Arthur sarcastically asked. “I thought I was barred for breaking that pot.”

“If you break another, we won’t forgive you,” another woman said, coming up to them.

“Edra! It’s wonderful to see you again.” Merlin hugged her briefly.

“What on earth are you doing here?” Kerri asked, eyeing them both.

“We’re here to ask about our mortality, or should I say, lack of it?” Arthur said.

Edra walked towards the grand doors of the palace. “Follow us.”

They were led through the halls, being met with many a priestess and priest, child and adult. The place was filled with an overwhelming feeling of peace. Both Merlin and Arthur put that down to the fact that almost everyone who occupied the castle was a druid.

Eventually, they made it to the lower levels of the castle. Edra opened a door to a room, leading them in. Kerri sparked up the unlit torches, allowing light to showcase everything that was within the room. Drawings were placed upon pedestals, carvings had been etched into the walls. One of those carvings showed an unnatural building, too high to exist, at least in that time. There was Kilgharrah breathing fire on an army, images from the other timelines, their wedding, the deaths of people they had yet to lose, and so much more.

“Your past, present and future.” Kerri swept her arm, her eyes burning with gold, as the markings on the walls moved, their outlines shining blue. “You are never to leave the land of men; the world cannot lose part of itself.”

Edra stepped towards one of the drawings. It was a metal box and looked like a wagon. Inside were Merlin and Arthur, having a picnic while rain battered the outside. It was detailed, _too_ detailed. They couldn’t know what it was, only that it came from a future not yet known. “You are immortal. You are both magic. You are tied to the fabric of this world.”

Kerri gave a small smile. “The reason your lives have been foretold since the dawn of time is because you are woven into it. You will live forever, see things we mere mortals can only imagine. You are more than any other magical creature, you are something the Triple Goddess created to safeguard magic. You chose this path together and you will be forever bound, protecting magic until time itself dies.”

“We see this, we envision it. Your destinies breathe stronger than any other,” Edra finished.

Merlin’s eyes were blown wide, he glanced all around, looked to Arthur, then back to Kerri and Edra. “This can’t be true…”

“Why not?” Kerri wondered. “Nothing here is a lie.”

Arthur spluttered out some inaudible sounds before he found his footing. “Some of these carvings… they can’t possibly exist.”

“But they will exist, one day. Nothing is specific or truly foretold. This is all we know, all we can tell you.”

Edra stopped the images from moving and extinguished the torches. “For now, however, you can stay here as long as you like, to let this all sink in.”

“I’m in too much shock to let this sink in,” Merlin said, turning towards the door.

“I’m sure you will get used to it,” Kerri guaranteed as she led them out. “Now, why don’t you tell stories to the children? They enjoyed that last time.”

“I’d love that,” Arthur said, trying to smile through his shocked expression. “It’ll make me forget what we saw in this room.”

As the news spread that the Kings of Camelot were present in the castle, ready to tell stories of their grand adventures, all the children gathered in the common room, sitting around the fireplace. From young children to teenagers, every minor in the castle had crowded around to hear the (likely exaggerated) tales.

Merlin rubbed his hands together, getting into his storytelling mode. “Let’s start with the story of how two knights got their act together.”

=

_“ **Gwaine** ,” Arthur warned from the front of the pack._

_They were all on their horses, on patrol, because getting a well needed break was good sometimes, even if the best knights and the two kings were going on that particular outing._

_“I was only saying I’m hungry.”_

_Merlin threw something at Gwaine, which he managed to catch with his quick reflexes. “There.”_

_“Ahh, an apple.” He bit into it and, luckily, stayed silent for a good while._

_“Aww, Gwaine could have annoyed Arthur for another hour. Can’t believe you ruined our fun, Merlin,” Elyan said, gaining a few laughs all around._

_“We have to be careful. We don’t want Arthur getting all wound up,” Lancelot chimed, chuckling._

_“Is no one on my side here? You lot can take Gwaine’s chatter?”_

_“ **Excuse me**?” Gwaine said with his mouth full. “How is Merlin any better?”_

_“Merlin’s chatter is comforting.”_

_Merlin laughed at that. “It’s okay, Arthur. I’m on your side.”_

_Arthur glanced at Merlin, spotting his grin. “I don’t believe that for a second.”_

_“Hey, Merlin, call him a clotpole,” Percival bellowed._

_“Why…?” Merlin wondered, arching an eyebrow._

_“He always blushes like a girl when you do.”_

_As Arthur ducked his head, trying to deny he liked the insult, laughter rang out. But the joy wasn’t allowed for long as nature stirred around them. Trees and bushes rustling, animals scampering away. All went still in an instant, even the horses froze in fear, their eyes darting around. Merlin and Arthur looked to each other in pure fear, they could feel a powerful kind of magic moving around them. They looked to the other knights, gesturing for them to dismount, **quietly**. _

_Once they were firmly on the ground, their horses galloped away, trying to be anywhere else but there. Because there, in that place, was danger. They didn’t know what it was, but all withdrew their swords. Merlin stayed at the ready, his cloak swishing in the wind. Except, there was no wind, at all. Everything was still and had been scared away, even natural forces. Something was wrong._

_Then they felt it properly, a swoosh of wind. And another. The wind kept coming until Elyan was thrown away, Lancelot was pushed against a tree, Gwaine was tripped up and something, fast and blurry came up to Merlin and Arthur, standing in front of them._

_A human. No. Not human. They were clearer to see once they stopped going so fast, and the blurriness left them. This creature was pale, far too pale. And as their lips twisted into a leer, the two could see so clearly. Sharp teeth._

_Arthur’s eyes lit up with gold, sending the creature back. Since Percival was the only other knight standing, he pointed his sword at the creature as it landed next to him. Though, the thing was too fast. Merlin and Arthur knew to stay still, they had done research, but the knights had no knowledge and moving, well, that was a bad idea._

_The creature leapt up in its great speed and grabbed Percival from behind, pulling his head to the side, baring his neck. Percival cried out and Merlin sent a spell towards them, but the creature didn’t move this time. Instead it stayed firmly on the ground._

_Unsure of what spell to use that wouldn’t harm Percival in the process, Merlin and Arthur had to watch as the creature stared at them before plunging its teeth into Percival’s neck. Both Elyan and Lancelot had been knocked out by the creature, but Gwaine? No, not Gwaine. With the element of surprise, he managed to stab the creature, yet he didn’t do it with his sword. He knew better than that. He had stabbed the pale thing with a stick, right through the heart. The creature jerked upwards, removing its teeth from Percival’s skin._

_The thing came crashing down, writhing from its injury. Percival was, unfortunately, unconscious, and with the lack of support, he fell. But, as always, Gwaine was quick on his toes, catching Percival as he went down. He lowered with him, pulling him to his chest, cradling him._

_He pressed his hand against Percival’s cheek, feeling the warmth of it. “Wake up… Wake up…”_

_Merlin rushed over to the two, crouching by Percival. He instantly noticed the tears pooling at Gwaine’s eyes. So, with a silent ask for permission (which Gwaine gave), Merlin placed his fingers at the two puncture wounds. He whispered a few healing spells, yet nothing happened. As Arthur came up to them, after checking on Lancelot and Elyan, some information sparked in his mind._

_“No, not a healing spell, Merlin. It’s a vampiric wound. A bite, not a drain.”_

_“Oh!” Merlin sounded, concentrating back on Percival wholeheartedly. “ **Áfeorse sé drýlác rinnende þurh hine! Þurhhæle dolgbenn**.” The wound glowed purple as the magic seeped away and his skin healed, leaving nothing but a small bruise. _

_Gwaine pressed his hand harder against Percival’s cheek, praying for the spell to work as intended. He wished and hoped and breathed slowly, like his whole being rested on this. “Percy…?”_

_Eyelids fluttered, a groan of pain was made, and Percival looked to Gwaine, his eyes smiling. “Hello, handsome.”_

_“You scared me half to death.”_

_Percival, weakly, caressed Gwaine’s cheek. Gwaine closed his eyes at the touch, letting a tear run. “I’m alright.”_

_“I’ll hold you to that.” He smiled down at him. “Marry me.”_

_Percival blinked rapidly, his head dropped backwards, almost hitting off the ground. “Really?”_

_“Mm, really. You make me the happiest man in the world and I want everyone to know that… Will you marry me?”_

_“Of course, yes.” Percival used his strength (which happened to be a lot for someone who may have almost been turned into a vampire) to pull Gwaine into a small, brief and loving kiss. Something to seal how much he wanted to marry his beautiful partner._

=

“Aww, that was so cute!” a child rang out.

“Sounds like it was awful, but at least something good came out of it,” an older teen said.

Merlin nodded in agreement. “It was a strange day… Normally vampires aren’t so… ready to kill.”

“Another story!” a child shouted.

“Are there any stories you want to hear?” Arthur asked.

“What about the story of Larkin? We all know about her!”

He leant forward, enthusiastically. “It all started here.”

=

_Arthur whisked around the palace on the Isle of the Blessed. By his side was Edra, laughing on about how the children were getting on. She was in the middle of saying how fantastic they were all being, considering it had only been three years and half of them were orphans. But Arthur stopped her mid-sentence as he peered into a room._

_Inside said room, a child that could be no older than eleven was tending to a wound on her friend’s arm. The wound was deep and gushed blood, yet, with only a glow of her eyes, the wound began to heal itself. No spell at all, just pure instinct. She added in a quick spell towards the end, to ensure the wound would leave no scar. Her friend hugged her and talked about how wonderful she was, how talented. The girl deflated and mentioned how she only wanted to be a healer, a physician, not a priestess of any kind. She knew she was powerful, but she wanted a different life for herself._

_“Who’s she?” Arthur whispered to Edra, who was smiling._

_“Her name is Larkin. She is the most talented healer I have ever seen. I’d wager she’s better than your healer, Alice.”_

_“I can see…” Arthur studied the girl that looked to be so vulnerable. “Parents?”_

_“Killed when she was born.”_

_“Hm… Send her up to the common room, I want to have a chat with her.”_

_Edra’s eyebrows knitted. “Planning on taking her to Camelot?”_

_“Yes. Gaius and Alice can train her, if she wants.”_

_“Arthur, I think she would love that.”_

_Up in the common room, a place with many a rug, a large fireplace, tables every which way and a few bookcases, Merlin and Arthur stood, leaning against a pillar. Arthur had filled Merlin in about his little plan, and Merlin had lit up with the idea. While they couldn’t do this sort of thing for them all, Arthur had taken a shine to Larkin and wanted to help her._

_When Larkin entered the room, she kept her head ducked, like she thought she was in trouble. Maybe she thought she was. But the moment she saw Arthur and Merlin, her entire demeanour dropped._

_“My lords! I’m sorry… Are you waiting for someone?” she said, backing away._

_“You,” Arthur said, moving away from the pillar. “We were waiting for you.”_

_She stepped back, now holding her head high. “Really?”_

_“We have an offer,” Merlin began, looking to Arthur._

_“I heard you talking to your friend. Your magic… it’s powerful but you want to heal people and, we can help you with that.” A smile took over Arthur’s entire face. “Do you know of Gaius and Alice?”_

_“Yes… Everyone knows of them.”_

_“You can train with them, if you’d like.” He hesitantly stepped forward, noticing how much Larkin was smiling. “I also… We’d like…”_

_In his struggle to find words, Merlin placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’d like to adopt you… If that isn’t too far.”_

_“Too far?” Larkin covered her mouth with her hands, but it couldn’t hide the smile in her eyes. “You’re asking me if I want to be adopted by kings and train with the best physicians around… That isn’t far at all.”_

_Arthur grinned. “You’re sure?”_

_“As sure as sure can be.” She moved towards them. “Can I hug you both?”_

_“Of course.”_

_She hugged them both tightly yet briefly. She couldn’t possibly wipe the smile off her face either. This was the best day of her life. Not only an opportunity to become a great physician, but an opportunity to know what being a daughter felt like. That mattered to her more than being a priestess._

_Larkin spent a small amount of time packing before she met with the Nine down by the main entrance to the palace. They all hugged or kissed her, bidding farewell to the young sorceress they had known for three years._

_Merlin and Arthur watched from beside the door. Of course, the door had plenty of decorations and had two tables either side, both with a decorative pot on. The pots were chockfull of colour, patterns and pictures. They were the most fantastic pieces. True works of art._

_Larkin had finished saying goodbye to the people who had cared for her, and waved as she backed away, making it to Merlin’s and Arthur’s sides. The two also said goodbye to their friends as they moved to make their way out._

_As Arthur turned, however, his elbow was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It swiped a pot as it moved, taking the thing of its table. It crashed to the ground, breaking into pieces that scattered across the floor. He jumped at the noise, instinctively protecting Larkin. No one was hurt by the flying shards but Kerri, Edra and the rest of the Nine gaped at the mess._

_“Our favourite pot!” Kerri exclaimed._

_Merlin crouched down by the mess, whispering a few words over it. The pot began reassembling itself, making the pieces skitter and fly back to the base of the pot, reconstructing from the bottom up. As the last piece slotted in, Merlin picked it up and gently placed it back on the table._

_Edra rolled her eyes. “For that, don’t come back, you clumsy oaf.”_

_Arthur remorsefully stared at the now fixed pot. “That’s completely fair.”_

=

“So that’s why everyone calls you clumsy!”

Arthur laughed. “I may be good at breaking pots, especially people’s favourites.”

One child perked up from the back. “What about the story of Aithusa, the dragon? How did she come to call you fathers?”

Merlin smiled. “That story is one of my favourites.”

=

_“Sires, there have been reports of a dragon sighting,” Leon said._

_They were in Merlin’s and Arthur’s chambers and after a knock on the door, Leon had entered with this slightly encouraging news. Merlin had stepped towards him, his body brimming with hope, and Leon smiled, giving him enough of an answer._

_“The dragon is said to be small and white.”_

_Merlin let out a breath. “It’s good to know Aithusa’s still alive…”_

_“Why don’t you call for her?” Arthur asked, smiling yet frowning. Merlin talked so often of wanting to see Aithusa but never gave a reason as to why he didn’t command her to come._

_His head dropped. “She betrayed me… more than Kilgharrah ever did… I want her to come to me on her own terms. Calling her here would defeat the purpose.”_

_Leon placed a comforting hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “With this new report, the sighting comes from the edge of the Darkling Woods. She’s getting closer.”_

_“Before you know it we’ll hear a roar and a dragon will appear,” Arthur said, smiling brightly, adding that little bit of needed reassurance._

_Merlin smiled at him, about to say something, when one of the windows smashed. The three of them all stiffened and turned to the window. Leon’s hand was on the hilt of his sword, Merlin’s and Arthur’s were slightly raised. But low and behold, it wasn’t a threat at all. Instead, a pretty hefty dragon stood in the room, cooing. The white beast plodded over to Merlin and bowed at his feet, letting out small sounds that sounded apologetic._

_“Aithusa…” he said, crouching down to her, feeling her still crippled bones._

_“I’m sorry,” she managed to utter in a whisper._

_“You can talk now?” Merlin’s tone was soft, forgiving._

_“I spent… the past years… being better… I shouldn’t have… sided with Morgana. I’m sorry.”_

_Merlin patted her gently. “That doesn’t matter now. You are my kin… Let me heal you.”_

_“Morgana never… could.”_

_“I’m the last dragonlord, Aithusa. **Let** me heal you.”_

_“Okay,” she spluttered. She was definitely weak and smashing through the window didn’t help. The problem was, the pain from her crushed bones caused copious amounts of fatigue along with many other symptoms. Being healed would help solve some of her problems._

_“ **Ic hæle þina þrowunga**.”_

_She was in small amounts of pain as her bones stretched out and fixed themselves, strengthening. Her body seemed to take the shape of a typical dragon now that her bones were not crushed and twisted. Aithusa perked up as the spell stopped fixing things as there was nothing left to fix. She had been healed._

_Arthur crouched down by Aithusa, his smile bright. She looked to him, her icy blue eyes piercing his. As soon as she seemed to work out a few things out, she pressed her head against his chest, trying her best to smile. Arthur stroked her head, still smiling._

_“Merlin’s husband!”_

_Merlin laughed. “Aithusa, how much do you know?”_

_She stepped away, looking to Merlin. “Kilgharrah told me a lot once I promised to not be loyal to anyone else but, as he said, ‘the young warlocks, the young kings’.”_

_“Why does he always use those terms?” Arthur asked._

_Aithusa smiled, cheerfully. “It’s not for me to say.”_

_“Why have you come now?” Merlin said, stroking Aithusa’s neck._

_“Because you are my kin, Merlin. You should be like a father to me, never an enemy. I am so sorry for my mistakes. Can you forgive me?”_

_“Aithusa… Of course I forgive you. I feel the same, you should be like a daughter to me.”_

_She perked up, her wings fluttered. “Thank you!” She glanced to Arthur. “Do I have two fathers now?”_

_Arthur chuckled softly. “I’d be honoured to be seen as your father.”_

_Aithusa turned and crashed her head against his chest once more, nearly knocking him over. “Thank you… I’m so sorry for what I did in those caves. You should never have feared me.”_

_He wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t fear you now… We all have a lot to say sorry for, so let’s leave it at that, alright?”_

_She moved in his arms to look at him. “Okay…”_

_Merlin looked over his shoulder, seeing that Leon had been watching the entire thing, smiling as the cuteness overtook him. He became startled as he realised he may have been intruding, but when Merlin stood up grinning, he relaxed._

_“Inform all our friends that we have a dragon to look after now. Everyone will have a chance to help.”_

_Leon nodded and glanced to Aithusa once more before leaving the room. Merlin and Arthur spent the next few hours talking with her, getting to know her as she got to know them._

_It became a thing that Gwaine would steal food, like apples, for Aithusa. While Lancelot would tell her stories before she would go fly off to a nearby cave to sleep. Percival would attempt to pick her up, which she enjoyed greatly (though that activity stopped as she grew too heavy). Elyan would help her become an expert on how to prank Merlin and Arthur, which caused bouts of joy for the knights. Leon would teach her good strategies to fight, if she ever needed to. Gwen would craft her small items of clothing like bows, ribbons and hats, which Aithusa always said thank you by using her fire to make special, unique gems. Meanwhile, Merlin and Arthur became true fathers to her. They would teach her important lessons, gave her copious amounts of support when she needed it, and just talked to her with love and care, knowing she was fragile yet strong._

_It was the perfect unit for the young dragon. And when Larkin came along, the two bonded instantly. Quite often, Larkin taught Aithusa on how to heal the wounds inside her mind, which made Aithusa feel alright with herself, let her forgive herself for what she had done._

_It had its struggles and challenges, but all in all, they made it through. Aithusa had the family she needed, in the end._

=

“Whoa…” one of the kids sounded. “That was… inspiring!”

A preteen nodded. “It shows that if people are willing, we can succeed in our second chances. And that you can never give up on the family you choose.”

Arthur smiled. “That’s an important message to take away from that story.”

After Merlin and Arthur told a few of their most famous adventures, like the story of the troll that married Uther, it was time to go. Kerri and Edra mainly led them out, a few of the other high priestesses said hello swiftly before whisking off elsewhere, but Kerri and Edra always made time for Merlin and Arthur.

As they approached the entrance, Arthur managed to trip on a slightly upturned stone. It would have been fine if it had not been for the table right by him. He fell against it, banging his arm and head off it, making the thing shake and then– Smash. A pot, broken into pieces, on the floor. Merlin crouched down by Arthur, making sure he was alright, ignoring the pot this time around. Kerri got to fixing it while Edra stared Arthur down.

“Just… get out,” Edra said, rolling her eyes, turning away from the two, her dress whirling around her.

Camelot was upon them soon enough. Arthur had complained for the entire journey about the upturned stone. Merlin had agreed at first but now he only wished to be freed from the endless complaining. With no other escape, he spurred his horse on, going from a trot to a canter.

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur called, catching up to him. “Am I annoying you?”

“Yes, you clotpole.”

“Alright, alright… I suppose we should talk about what we’re going to do.”

Merlin sighed. “About our immortality?”

“Yes. We can hardly stay in our current state for much longer.”

“Are you suggesting we age ourselves, bit by bit?”

“No one would suspect anything.”

“Those spells make you incredibly weak. I should know.”

Arthur shrugged, half-heartedly. “We’re both much stronger than we were over a decade ago. I believe it’ll be alright.”

“We… I don’t know…”

“It can’t be any worse than that time we had to change ourselves into young women to escape that prison.”

Merlin shuddered. “Don’t remind me… I still think about that man.”

Arthur grimaced. “Yeah. Some men can be really…”

“Gross?”

“Yes, gross.”

“Well, anyway, we should talk with Aithusa. She may have some advice.”

The clearing rumbled as Aithusa laughed warmly, loud and clear, with her deep gruff voice which echoed mystically in the air. Her laughing had been going on for fifteen minutes, while Merlin and Arthur stared up at her, wishing for her to just say something.

“Fathers, I cannot believe you need my help on something so simple,” she said at long last.

“Well we wouldn’t, if Arthur wasn’t such a dollophead.”

Arthur turned to him, folding his arms. “Oh _really_? This again?”

“Fathers… Fathers… Before you insult each other to death, I must say, I cannot help you settle an argument.” She bent her head down, to stare into Arthur’s eyes. “If you want to age yourself, do it.” She looked to Merlin. “And if you don’t, then fine.” She lifted her head back up. “But truly, do you want the kingdom knowing you’re immortal? Would anyone benefit from having immortal kings? Because I think not.”

“She has a point, _Mer_ lin.”

“Fine… It’s only– hard to think about.”

Arthur wrapped an arm around him. “We’ll get through it.

Aithusa smiled. “It has been lovely seeing you both, but I have to head off once again.”

Merlin and Arthur said goodbye to their dragon daughter and before they knew it, they were in the courtyard, feeling a heavy weight drag behind them. Knowing that they were to be, forever, that was impossible. To know that you would outlive everyone around you as of that moment and all the moments to come, stung. It burnt and clawed at the mind. All their friends, all the people younger than them, babies even, they would see them all die one day. Be there when things would change. It was a heavy weight indeed, a burden, but a needed piece of knowledge.

Larkin came running down the steps, noticing the sullen smiles on their faces. “Oh god, it’s true, isn’t it?”

“Let’s get out of the courtyard,” Merlin said.

They made it up to the council chambers, where no one was that time of day. Larkin pulled out a chair for herself, sinking in it, while Arthur closed the doors.

“You’re both immortal, right?”

Merlin nodded, feeling an awful lot of dread take over him. “Kerri and Edra told us why it’s this way. We’re woven into the world, which means it cannot lose us.”

“What does this mean? What will you do?”

Arthur huffed out a breath, almost choking on it through his despair. “We’ll slowly age ourselves, like the others… Only when all our friends die will we fake our deaths.”

“That is absurd, fathers!” She bolted up from her chair, facing them. “Aging yourselves? With the plan to one day fake your deaths? Who could possibly take over from you?”

Merlin approached her, taking her hands, looking to her softly. “You will, my dear. You are better fit than most. You’re our daughter.”

“I am not blood.”

“But you are family,” Arthur said, resting a hand on her shoulder.

She teared up. “Fine then… If it’s what you want. But please, let me be a physician for as long as possible.”

Merlin smiled. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Years ticked on and Hunith spent her last days in Camelot, by her son’s side. She didn’t want healing or anything, she merely wanted to see her son and her son-in-law before she died. Merlin had cried for days when she died, but Arthur was with him with every step, helping him through the grief. He wasn’t the only one as everyone banded together to make Merlin perky and bright again. (Mainly by letting Merlin cheat at games such as dice).

Strangely enough, Gwen and Lancelot were the first to go. At the grand age of around sixty, they both caught a disease. They could have been healed, many others were, with the help of magic. But Gwen and Lancelot agreed that dying together was what they wanted. Gwaine and Percival also happened to die together. One day, in The Rising Sun, a fight broke out. Gwaine and Percival stayed out of it, till they were confronted. They gave each a look of, ‘this may be our last moment’ before they chugged their drinks and briefly kissed. Not soon after, they fell at once, side by side.

It was Kay dying from old age next, then Leon, because oh boy, had he had the worst paper round of all time. Geraint and Elyan went down in a blaze of glory in their retirement, exploring the lands. They had been studying a tomb when a trap set the place ablaze and the two managed to scramble their way out just in time. It was the smoke that got them in the end, or rather, their lungs.

So, with all that, and all the years, Merlin and Arthur were in their late sixties. They were certainly old for their time and they looked old as well, due to their magic helping them along the way. Merlin, however, stopped himself from looking anything like Dragoon. His beard was short and so was his hair. Arthur’s hair was grey, a direct contrast to the crystal white of Merlin’s. It was also short, and he had a fair bit of stubble that you could call a beard if you were trying hard enough.

They were in their chambers, before dawn, standing before two potions that Larkin had set down. The liquid swirled on its own in the vial and had this strange purple colour about it. The thing had been enchanted, that was for certain.

Larkin placed her hands on her hips, staring at the potions. Tears stung at her eyes. “Once you drink that, you have about a minute to get into bed before your body knocks you out. You will appear dead for around a day, which gives me plenty of time… But, fathers… people will want to see your funeral. How do you get out of that?”

“We don’t,” Arthur said. “We can protect ourselves from your flame. Make sure that when you set our boat alight, that you give us a warning, through telepathy.”

Larkin dropped her head. “I can’t believe… this is happening. I’m not ready.”

Merlin whisked around the table and pulled Larkin into a hug. “You _are_ ready, darling. You are far more prepared for this than Arthur and I ever were.”

Arthur moved around too, placing a comforting hand on Larkin’s back as she began to cry. “You are strong. And we’ll never be too far. We’ll still be in the kingdom. You can visit us whenever you want.”

“Beyond the white mountains,” she choked out. “That’s far enough away.”

“I know… But we’ll be there, always.”

Larkin sniffled and wiggled out of Merlin’s hold. “Okay…” She bit at her bottom lip. “I love you both.”

“We love you too,” Merlin said as he and Arthur walked back to the potions.

Down the hatch, as they say. The stuff burnt their throats and tasted more like rotten meat than anything else. They scurried over to their bed, slipping in and relaxing down, cuddling into each other like any other night. When they passed out, Larkin arranged them in a way that made them look more natural.

The people of the city gathered with candles as news spread. The kings were dead. An era had ended. It was likely that the land wouldn’t see another reign like this, ever. Larkin had soon confirmed their deaths and so, the knights were rounded up and a convoy was sorted for transport to the lake of Avalon. As the dressed-up wagon began to go forth, knights, servants, residents of Camelot and Lords and Ladies followed. Most only walked them out of Camelot, but the rest, they followed all the way to the lake. The people who couldn’t believe the kind kings were dead. There would truly never be any other like them.

At the lake, they were set upon a boat covered in flowers. But not just any flowers, there were a few bundles of the special tulips, the representations of themselves. Staffs and swords. Red and Blue. Their bodies had been lain as close as possible, with their hands joined.

Larkin stepped forward, with knights, servants, people close to Merlin and Arthur and sorcerers that didn’t know of their destiny behind her. She echoed ‘ _Now’_ in their minds as the boat cast itself out, bursting into flame. She closed her eyes, letting tears run. She was the only one who knew she hadn’t lost them, but they weren’t going to be near, and that burnt. Those tears, they helped with the illusion of grief.

When she returned to her home, she’d be the queen of Camelot.

With the boat burnt away, clothes dried at the shoreline, younger faces donned, Merlin and Arthur hugged each other tightly. This was the end of a chapter of their really, _really_ , extremely, completely ridiculously, gargantuanly extensive lives. Yet, they weren’t even scratching the surface yet. They were still very much young in the eyes of time.

As they set off on their journey towards their new home (on horses they had prepared earlier), they happily reflected on their time as kings. They knew they would miss it, well, Merlin was especially aware of how much Arthur would miss it. Maybe it would feel the same as any other loss. A loss of something you know well. Nevertheless, Arthur hadn’t stopped nattering on about the house they would have, the land they would have, for months on end. The fact that they were finally going to settle down, to just be them, was important. Not only that but, a _farm_. A dream made true.

“Tell me about your dream again,” Merlin said, eager to hear the story. Of how it came to be. Of how Arthur had wanted this life for so many years and it was only around the corner now.

“It all started after we saved your village… Regardless of what you said, I liked the idea of living off what you had and nothing more. It sounded… so relaxing, so normal. It became a comfort to me, to imagine being in a village where I wasn’t some royal. Slowly, the idea expanded. It wasn’t only me, you were there too. It struck me that I had become so dependent on you, that even in my imaginings of a different life, you were there. All of that felt right to me. It felt natural… And now, it’ll be a reality.”

Merlin reached over and squeezed Arthur’s hand for a second. “I can’t wait.”

Their home was a little out of the way. It was near enough to a village, had plenty of land surrounding it and had a small woodland right by it. All in all, it was perfect. Finally, a home to make them feel utterly free.

A few months managed to slip from them easily as the two kept busy. They had settled in well and Aithusa visited regularly. Although she was immensely tied up with duties, even Larkin found enough time to visit them on a couple of occasions. Everything was going well, at long last. Everything was normal. They weren’t targets, they were just two young men working on a farm together, who were actually married, had been kings for the last forty or so years and were immortal. Totally normal.

One morning, Arthur had gotten up early to tend to the garden, because yes, in their ‘old age’ they wanted to relax, not work themselves to a near death. So, instead of being traditional farmers, they used their patch of land to create a flower meadow, full of vibrant wild flowers that brightened the place up. They even used a small piece of land for a garden full of vegetables, fruit and flowers.

After he finished tending to the plants, Arthur sat by one flower, lightly touching its petals. It swirled towards him and he smiled, his eyes burning with gold. The flower proceeded to open up its petals and danced. It was more like some kind of folk dance, but Arthur couldn’t pinpoint it.

“Are you… making a flower dance?” Merlin asked as he sat beside Arthur, brow furrowed.

“I was bored. You were asleep.”

“You do enjoy it here… right?”

He smiled as he leant on Merlin’s shoulder. “Here is lovely. A perfect place. But you are my home and I enjoy it here because you’re with me.”

“Good. Because you are my home too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spells:  
> “Áfeorse sé drýlác rinnende þurh hine. Þurhhæle dolgbenn.” ¬– Dispel the magic running through him. Heal the wound.


	8. A New Time

A lake that had been through so much. Had seen so much. Had watched as people were sent off upon its waters. Dealt with the brimming magic below its surface. It loved to watch, observe. Seeing time fly on by. The fall of nearby trees, the rise of houses. Houses that were developed, were rich with history and architecture. That were restored. The skies were no longer just for nature, as metal objects flew high above the clouds. The lake peered at the small boats sent across it, controlled by a box in children’s hands.

Then there was the solid path behind some hedges which metal objects rolled across like it was nothing, like it was normal. But the lake missed the old days, the trees and the freeness of magic. It especially missed that. It missed the funerals which it felt sympathy for. It missed it all. Meanwhile, the children enjoyed splashing about with dogs in the shallows of the lake’s water, it found happiness in watching that.

But then, the lake felt the presence of a man. An old man. So very old. He had seen a lot. Lost a lot. The blue lorry that had whirled passed him like he simply wasn’t there, wasn’t to be minded, bothered the lake.

Oh, and the man. His swirling white hair, flapping beard, his heavy bags. He didn’t want to be passing by the lake, but he felt he had to, even the lake knew that. He was there to respect the ones he had lost. The ones he had sent out on those waters. His friends, people he loved, people he missed. He became parallel with the overbearing tower which never used to be so visible, nor so broken. He hesitated in his walk, sighing, but the man carried on nonetheless. It was a fleeting visit.

As he left the lake behind, far behind, he travelled a little further north before heading southwards, towards a section of land that was protected by a status from the government. Little did modern people know, that within the place of national importance, mainly for conservation, was a place conserved. A valley, shrouded with magic, off the grid, ancient. So filled with magic it protected those who lived there wholly. It was only a place to live, like any other, and people came and went as they pleased. But you’d never find it unless you were specifically looking for it.

He chatted with a few people on his way, all cheerfully. They wouldn’t mention what he was trying to press them on, trying to get information, only saying it was up for his other half to tell him stories. He reluctantly obliged, continuing through the valley until he made it to the other side.

After leaving through a cave, he travelled on for a few more miles before he found himself in a town. Some people waved to the man, smiling and grinning as he walked through. They felt a friendly pull to him. Most knew him as ‘the wandering man’ who had lived in the town when it was still a village, many decades ago. Even though he looked burdened, they knew he was happy, which made their hearts full.

Eventually, as he made it out of the town and more into the countryside, he made it to a two-story cottage. It had a large expanse of land around, mostly covered in flowers. Its gardens were nicely finished, flawless you could say. The windows were sparkling, the stone was old and the car on the drive must have been made before World War II (but was in tiptop shape).

The man walked up to the door, pushed it open without the use of his hands and smiled as he stepped in.

“Honey I’m home!” he shouted, dropping his bags, shrugging off his coat and taking to the nearby stairs to pull off his shoes.

“Never say that again!” a voice replied from the kitchen. “Ya idiot.”

“Ooo, how endearing.”

“Only for you!”

The man swiftly caught a sniff of the aroma coming from the kitchen. “Is that burning I smell?” he asked with a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Shut up! No one can cook your favourite better than me.”

“Except a Michelin star chef!”

“ _Come here_ , I missed you.”

“Hold on, I’m taking off my boots, you impatient ass.”

“Love you too.”

The house was fairly small, perfect for two, and as the man kicked off his shoes, he headed to the kitchen, breathing in the smell completely. Another elderly man happened to be busy at a stove (an old stove. While the house may have looked fairly modern, it was ancient. No electricity or running water, not that either of them needed it). He was stirring some kind of thick sauce and to the side of the stove, on the counter, was a fruity bread.

The man hugged his companion from behind, placing a kiss on his cheek. The other man squirmed under his hold, letting out a small laugh.

“Your beard has grown long again…” he observed, never taking his eyes off his sauce.

The man stepped back and stroked his beard. “Does it annoy you…?”

“You know it does. It tickles far too much.” He chuckled and took his pan off the heat. The fire beneath extinguished immediately. He turned to the bread and poured the sauce on top.

“Don’t be such a coward. You love it, _Artie_.”

He shook his head. “Nooo. I absolutely do not.” He took up the plate the bread stood on and paraded over to the table at the other end of the room, setting the plate in the middle. Two small plates burst out of their cupboard and came flying to the table, settling down in their places. Artie looked to the man. “And since when has my nickname become an insult, _Mer_ lin?”

Merlin rolled his eyes, heading to the table. “Since the beginning of my name did.” He sat down and one look at the bread caused it to slice itself into equal pieces. “Sorry for taking so long, Arthur.”

Arthur eyed Merlin and sighed. “For a moment, I thought you were going to miss this. Did you take the scenic route?”

“Yes.”

“I thought we agreed to not let it upset us anymore.”

Merlin choked back the tears that had partly formed. “Oh yeah, that’s how that works.”

Arthur grasped Merlin’s hand, holding. “Sorry.” He sat back in his chair, removing his hand. “How were the priests and priestesses?”

“All the more better now that their cloak has been restored. And happy you didn’t turn up.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just because the stories of me breaking pots have been passed down.”

“You broke one in _their_ lifetimes.”

“That was not my fault! That teenager scared me!”

“You still broke a five-hundred-year-old pot.”

“That you fixed.”

“Again!”

“Wait– Was that the one I broke when it was first made?”

“Yes.”

Arthur shrugged, like he had been expecting no less. “At least I’m consistent.”

Merlin finally got a slice of bread to heft itself onto his plate, a fork came flying across the room, which he caught, with great skill. “And how were the druids?”

Arthur chuckled. “Well, as you know, it wouldn’t be a week with the druids if there wasn’t a death, a birth and a ritual.”

Merlin grinned as he shoved a piece of bread in his mouth. He ‘hmm’d’ at the good taste, knowing fine well his dear husband could not be beaten on his fruity bread with apple sauce. Arthur grinned at Merlin’s reaction, feeling good for his cooking. (And no, it did not take him centuries to learn. Not at all).

“I tried asking them when I went through the valley, but they wouldn’t say what you got up to,” Merlin said.

Arthur smiled yet an old sadness lay in his eyes. “Cathy had her child, who she named… Larkin.”

“After…?”

“Yes. After our daughter.” He wiped his eyes, clearing away tears. “By the goddess, I still miss her.”

“That child is blessed to have such a name. Blessed to be named after our dearest Larkin.” Merlin wiped a few tears of his own away.

“Larkin was the best queen Camelot ever saw.”

Merlin huffed out a breath. “Best and last.”

“Camelot had to fall for Albion to become what it is now… And besides, the legends couldn’t be based on truth.”

“I don’t think any of the legends have an ounce of truth in them. Not one bit.” He laughed, perking back up. “I mean, god, the one where Mordred is your _son_.”

“And the ones where you’re always old.”

“It was homophobia that made them forget.” His tone was bitterly bitter. “They made our history straight, they made it… gross in some ways.”

Arthur huffed. “If only our days were remembered instead of romanticised. Maybe then people would know their legendary King, they don’t think existed, was, is, a gay man.”

“And maybe they’d know their legendary warlock is a gay man too.” Merlin knocked Arthur’s shoulder, now smiling.

He crossed his arms. “But, seriously, could you imagine if the public knew that Camelot existed and that it had two kings?”

“The LGBT community would go insane, along with historians.”

“Yeah… But it wouldn’t make any difference. Our truth requires people to believe in the impossible.”

“Which isn’t impossible and is viable.”

“Right.” Arthur sighed and shook his head. “Make us look young again.”

“Do it yourself.”

“It’s your turn. I changed us back in 1899.”

Merlin let out a hearty laugh. “Remember why we made ourselves older back then?”

Arthur laughed also. “Because to Victorians, our wealth was explained by our age. We were the richest people in that town.”

“I think we scared them by giving the poorest money.”

“Oh, definitely.”

Arthur then took an opportunity to take a bit of Merlin’s slice of bread, because, he felt like it. Merlin didn’t even notice until Arthur had popped the bit in his mouth. He gaped at the stunt and rolled his eyes.

“You old prat.”

“Old?” Arthur smirked. “ _Edniwe mín geoguð_.” His grey hair rejuvenated into the blond strands and his pathetically small beard (at least compared to Merlin’s) shrunk away, leaving stubble. “Who’s old now?”

Merlin rolled his eyes and whacked Arthur’s arm. “Looking young does not mean you’re not old, you _old_ prat!”

Arthur chuckled and leant on his hand. “Come on, let me see that beard transform back into a chin.”

“Just because my beard hides it, doesn’t mean I don’t have a chin.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“ _Edniwe mín geoguð_.” Within a few seconds, a chin appeared on Merlin’s face as his beard disappeared and his hair moulded into the dark strands once more.

Arthur cupped Merlin’s chin, chuckling. “I missed your poor chin.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.”

A wooden board stood tall in the town, right by the big bright red post-box. The box was imbedded in the wall, so happy to see a man pass by it, posting a few cards through. He looked to the board, taking in the various events that were going on. The cheese market, the crafting competition, a notice about the charity auction. And a poster that had so many conflicted rainbows and colours that it nearly blinded anyone who looked at it. The man’s face lit up.

“And where’s your other half, Arthur?” a woman asked, approaching him, holding a few bags for life that were full of shopping.

“Oh, you know, he’s off out.” He stayed staring at the board.

“I don’t know how you put up with all his outings. I’d go mad at my husband for leaving every other week.”

“Sometimes space is good. We’re old, we know too much about each other to care. I know he loves his trips and that he needs them, he knows I like time alone. It’s not bad to get some time away from a loved one, it only gives you stories to tell.” Arthur turned to her, smiling with glee. The grey beard he had brought into existence stretched wildly with his wrinkled face. An old man, in many ways.

“Hm. Maybe that’s what my husband and I need? A bit of space?”

“I’d always recommend it when you have little else to say in conversation.”

She smiled and turned to the board, smiling more. “You going to Pride?”

“Of course. Are you?”

“You know how my husband feels about… _you know_.”

“Then he isn’t right for you if you can’t be yourself.” Arthur glanced to the ground. “We always have to learn that lesson the hard way, but we don’t have to.”

She cocked her head to the side, eyeing him. “Did you have a rough time, once? I thought you’ve always been with Merlin.”

“It was a…” He didn’t know how to explain it. Because it didn’t happen in this time, nor centuries ago. A millennium had passed. How could he fit it into the modern day? “It was a childhood friendship that developed into a relationship. Everyone thought we were sweethearts yet I knew little about her and she never saw my true self. She loved me for who she thought I would become, not for who I was and am.” He smiled. “She married later, to a man she really loved, and I eventually got to marry Merlin. It all worked out, but it was hard at the time.”

“I bet… Well, with the kids, I could hardly leave my husband–”

Arthur placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. “The kids will understand. You must come first in these things. If he doesn’t let you be who you are, he isn’t worth your love. Remember that, Sinead. You have a kind heart that must be nurtured, not broken.”

“You really know how to make someone feel… understood. Everyone says it.” She lifted her chin. “I will talk to him. Thank you for giving me courage.”

He smiled. “It’s what I’m here for.”

She nodded to him, rushing off with her shopping firmly in her grip. Arthur swivelled back to the board, stroking his chin. He looked around him, spotting that no one was there and ducked around a corner, disappearing from sight.

Only to reappear outside his house, so full of life and magic, it oozed it from its pores. Although, it only would for a few years more, it was almost time to move on. To change the place they lived, to cycle. Nowadays, it was worth being close to the Isle and the Valley but still, they were far from it. It would be quite pleasant to get closer once more, like they were back in the day, back when Camelot was still a kingdom and not a legend.

But none of that mattered now, for Arthur ran into the house, light on his feet as the years shred from him, making him appear much younger as he rounded the corner into the living room, practically bouncing with joy.

“Guess what is actually going ahead next week!” he bellowed, rushing to the sofa, vaulting over the back and sinking into it.

“What?” Merlin wondered while focusing on a newspaper. He skipped to one page where the main story was talking about some poison. He scoffed, it wasn’t poison, it was magic.

“Our town’s first Pride parade!”

“I don’t want to go.”

Arthur scrunched up his face, furrowing his brows to infinity. “We can’t miss this.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s important! This town was still a village in the sixties, this means a lot to the people. It should mean a lot to us. We’ve seen the kids grow to adults, some of them will be there. They will expect us.”

Merlin folded up his newspaper, looking to Arthur. “Which ‘us’ will they expect?”

“The loved up ninety-year-old couple. The whole town loves them.”

“You speak of it like they aren’t us.”

“They’re not… We’re us in this house, in the Valley of the Fallen Kings and the Isle of the Blessed. But we are not us out there… We’re always pretending out there.” Arthur sucked in a breath. “Without our magic being free, we’re merely, a young couple or an old couple. A lonely old man or… something else.”

“Then, why don’t we live with the druids? Or the priests and priestesses? Where we can be ourselves.”

“How many times must we have this conversation? We’re out here because we’d go insane anywhere else. We don’t need a repeat of the 800s.”

Merlin shivered. “We nearly lost it in that village.”

“My point exactly. We can never stay in one place, we know this by now.”

He sighed. “I wish we weren’t immortal, sometimes. What’s the point when everything is so… difficult to uphold? What are we even _doing_ anymore? We’re not protecting magic.”

“Are we not? Our magic is the only thing that keeps the Valley of the Fallen Kings and the Isle of the Blessed from being discovered. Those cloaks need the most powerful magic to sustain them and we do it like… it’s simple. No one else can preserve something so massive as the valley or so overbearing as the isle. Only you and me. That’s how we protect magic now, until it can be free again.”

Merlin sniffled and dragged his palm down his face. “Why do you have to be so inspirational?”

“It’s the natural leader in me.” Arthur gazed into Merlin’s eyes, feeling his sorrow. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah… You know how hard it is, when everything builds up.”

“No one could know better than me.” He gave a little smile. “Come to Pride with me, _please_.”

“Alright. I suppose it’s a small measure, compared to what we’ve been through.”

Arthur lay back on the sofa. “We’ve been through too much while trying to fight for the right to _love_. Really, who restricts that?”

“Bigoted assholes who don’t know what love really is…” Merlin closed his eyes. “I wish we could forget what we’ve been through in this fight.”

“I hate thinking about all the people– Well… you know.”

“I know.”

“We’ve had good times as well... That bar we owned, in the early 1900s.” Arthur grinned as he remembered the ‘old days’.

“The safe haven… We allowed people to be themselves without the fear.” Merlin felt himself smile at fond memories.

“Little did they know we were protecting them with magic.”

“Yeah… I’m glad it still thrives. So much time went into it. All our friends back then, building that place with their bare hands… We’ll never experience something like that again.”

Arthur stared into the distance as he sifted through memories. “Everyone being so desperate for a safe space, so desperate to be who they were. I’m happy we were a part of that.”

“After the parade, we should go, just for the memories.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

So, as the event drew closer, they grabbed a couple plain white t-shirts from their wardrobes and lay them out on the dining table, running through ideas. They talked it through for a bit before Merlin waved his hand over his shirt. The white cloth was slowly overtaken by a vibrant blue.

“No,” Arthur said as he stared at the colour. With a quick burn of gold in his eyes, the shirt transformed from the blue to a deep purple. “Suits you better.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I like blue more.”

“Yes, but I’m your husband and I’m saying purple is far more alluring.” He smiled widely and looked down at his own shirt. “You can choose the colour for mine, if you want.”

Merlin’s eyes glowed with gold as the colour of Arthur’s shirt morphed into the legendary Pendragon red. “It always suited you.”

They spent the next hour on their shirts but ended up with quite the matching theme. On the front of Merlin’s it said, ‘one side’, while on Arthur’s it said, ‘the other side’. On the back of their shirts, the letters had a thick outline and were the colour of the rainbow, reading ‘same coin’. Underneath those letters, an arrow lay. For Arthur’s it pointed to the right and for Merlin’s it pointed to the left.

“Perfect,” the two said at once, staring down at their handiwork.

Before they knew it, they were wearing those shirts, standing in the right place, with rainbows covering their faces and glitter all over their skin. They had aged themselves to their ninety-year-old states, looking mighty fine. They stood near the front of the parade, tightly holding hands, and then, they were off. The parade was to walk through the entire town (which had gathered a huge crowd) and was to finish in a large park near one of the outlining estates. That park had been filled with stalls and booths, food trucks and even had a stage for the local singers. It was quite the set up for a town hosting its first pride parade.

The parade sparked up and cheering ensued. Merlin and Arthur held hands for the entire thing, smiling brightly, cheering loudly as they went by the crowds at the side-lines. For the most part, everyone watching was supportive and cheered along as the parade passed by. The whole town had stopped to see.

When they all made it to the park and went through some level of security, the place was packed with people celebrating. The best environment to see people being themselves. A safe environment, to be able to chant, ‘here I am’ and buy a sticker or two. Or even a flag.

Merlin and Arthur browsed the many stalls, seeing things they’d buy if only they didn’t have whole boxes full of the same sort of things. Some people stopped to say hello to them, as they recognised them as the famous town couple. They were well known as being kind and a total old married couple cliché.

Eventually, they found themselves at a stall that was all about groups where older LGBT people would join up with younger LGBT to share experiences and to create a support system. A young lad and lass worked it, handing out leaflets and giving out information. Merlin and Arthur looked at it for a moment before heading to continue on.

The young lad’s attention suddenly focused on the two and his eyebrows shot up. “You’re… the oldest gay couple I’ve ever seen… in real life, I mean.”

Merlin and Arthur turned back to the stall, smiling brightly. Their shirts had worked, they knew that much. The lad beamed at the sight, looking ecstatic.

“How long have you been together?” he asked.

Arthur wrapped his arm around Merlin, happy to be asked. “It’s coming up to seventy years now. Isn’t it, Merls?”

“Sixty-eight to be exact.” Merlin slunk his arm around Arthur’s waist. “He likes to exaggerate, this one.”

The young lass turned away from sorting leaflets and grinned. “That’s such a long time! It’s always good to see veterans from a worse time defeating the odds.”

“Ah, well, Merls and I never let the damn laws get in our way.”

“I’d hate to think… How did you manage?”

Arthur glanced to the ground for a second. “We just… fought, like the rest.”

“And us two, we were good at outrunning the police.” Merlin winked. “Artie had to carry me away sometimes.”

The lass grimaced. “I’m glad I grew up in the noughties. Seeing good change happening around me made me feel safe. Although, I didn’t know why at the time.”

“And then marriage became legal! I was barely a teen at the time, but it mattered so much to me. My family barely understood,” the lad said.

Arthur chuckled at their pure joy showed by the two. “The good changes. We were there… when being gay became decimalised. The relief that filled us, that fuelled us for years.” He lifted his chin in thought. “It was the start of our rights, and it mattered, to have the right to exist.”

“Before it was all about living in fear, never knowing if _you_ were next… And now, you can feel much safer,” Merlin said.

“And we were a part of that activism.”

The lass broke out in smile. “Then, we should say, thank you, for fighting our corner, to make our lives easier.”

Merlin smiled. “It’s the duty of the older generation.”

“Really, though, _thank_ you. It isn’t often that any of us see older gay people, it’s good to know our love can last despite everything,” the lad said, brimming with joy.

“Oh it can last, it can last through everything. It always has,” Arthur remarked with confidence, because he and Merlin knew well. “History is gay, keep that in mind.”

The lass chuckled. “I think we can do that.” She picked up a leaflet and offered it to the two. “Consider popping by? You both seem nice and it sounds like you have plenty of stories to tell.”

Merlin took the leaflet and safely tucked it into his pocket. “We’ll pop by, I promise.”

The lad and lass beamed, surely looking forward to hearing what stories Merlin and Arthur held. And they had a hell of a lot, especially for LGBT activism in last fifty or so years. They hadn’t been joking when they said they ran from the police, or that they had lived in fear. While they were immortal warlocks, it was easy to be terrified of prison and bigots. And from history, they knew fine well that being yourself was a tricky path to go down.

Soon, they had vanished from the park. Instead, they stood outside of a bar in the middle of a dark but light city, in their younger looks with a different style of clothing on. Ripped jeans and sturdy stylish jackets.

They walked in, smiling and laughing, acting completely natural. They glanced over the bar lit up with rainbow lights and all the people around, the place was packed. Couples were left and right, brave people were asking others for numbers, and, of course, the bartenders looked to be extremely hardy.

As they began to walk over to a booth, two women grabbed their arms, dragging them over to the table. With some force, they got them to sit down, smiling at them with raised eyebrows as they got comfortable. The women looked to be in their sixties and were well accustomed to the bar.

“You haven’t been here in decades,” one said.

“Aren’t you a long way from your new home?”

Arthur shrugged. “It’s more like an old new home, Maia. And we’re immortal sorcerers, nothing is a long way.”

“You’re risking it, coming here in your younger forms.” The other woman pointed around the booth, towards a board with old pictures on it. “You haven’t changed in the last one hundred years.”

“Well I beg to differ, Calla,” Merlin said, smoothing down his hair. “Our styles have changed.”

“Hm, yes, and they talk so much of how discreet you both are in the Valley of the Fallen Kings.”

Arthur lit up. “So you’ve been then?”

“We much prefer it on the outside.”

Maia glanced to the bar where one of the bartenders waved to her. “And we’d never leave this place. It was our grandmothers who took over from you, after all.”

Merlin stared at one of the pictures opposite them, hanging from the board. “They were great people, who were a part of a wonderful group of butch lesbians. We’ll be forever glad they took over from us.”

Arthur nodded along. “They were… honestly the most badass people.”

Maia giggled. “It sounds so strange for the immortal king to use young language.”

“Not a king anymore,” Arthur countered, shrugging. “I may be called the Once and Future King, but I haven’t ruled anything for fifteen centuries. _That_ life is long in the past, where it shall stay.”

“Eh. Whatever. You’ll both always be kings to the druids.”

“We know,” the two chimed at once.

After a small catch up chat, Maia and Calla left the duo in the booth. They went to go get drinks and when they returned, they only came back with two, explaining that they really needed to get back to working. Merlin and Arthur fully understood that, as they would have done the same a hundred years ago, when running the bar. And they had owned it for around thirty years. When they handed it over to the group of lesbians, they knew fine well that it was going to good people, especially because a few sorcerers were among their pack, hence, some knew who the two _really_ were.

Merlin and Arthur got up from their seats, making their way to the board. It was a board you’d normally pin things to, but this had hardy pins in it, enough to withstand a frame with an old picture within. One such picture consisted of Merlin and Arthur, looking young, sitting on the kerb of the path in front of the bar. Behind them was few men and women, all in standing poses. Some had their hands on their hips, others had their hands on the shoulders of someone else. All had blinding smiles.

Arthur broke out in an all-consuming grin as he stared at the picture. Merlin was just the same, smiling with the same bright smile as the picture.

“They hang that up with pride…” Arthur said, almost tearing up.

“I can’t believe it’s still here.”

“Well, of course it is. We created this place, with our friends behind us.”

Merlin nodded to the other picture on the board, a group of butch lesbians sitting on the ground, showing their muscles, with other LGBT people behind them. It very much emulated the other picture. “While we started this, they created the true legacy of this bar… It wouldn’t exist today without them.”

“The best people to protect this place. And now, Maia and Calla are training up their own people to take over from them.” Arthur looked to the bar. “I’m glad our place has kept up with the times.”

“It will never fall, this.” Merlin twisted his mouth into a smile that breathed smugness. “It still has some protections.”

“Really?” Arthur tilted his head, being almost sure they had dissolved their spells.

“The fire one.”

“You sneaky genius.”

Merlin smirked. “Is that the only time you’ve called me a genius?”

“There’s been others… surely.”

“No, I’m fairly sure that’s the only time.”

“Well, my genius…” Arthur began, wrapping his arm around Merlin’s waist, “why don’t we go home?” he whispered into his ear.

“Oh, you really do know how to charm an old man.”

“Centuries of practice.”

It was upon a much different day, during a different season, when the two were trudging through a woodland, heading towards a hidden cave. They sneaked passed bushes and brambles, making their way in to the rocky cave, rocks they’d have to move around and vault over, to make it to a crack in a wall.

The wall the crack was situated in was covered in markings, to inform any sorcerer that had made it that far. With a wave of a hand, the crack dissolved and transformed into a door. Once opened, a place quite similar to the outside was revealed, though, it was different. Magic crept into every crevice of this place and filled the air. Sorcerers were free to show off, to light up the sky with any kind of magic, as long as it didn’t destroy the place they intended to keep hidden.

When the door closed, the crack in the wall returned, protecting the place completely.

Merlin nudged Arthur, grinning with glee. “Race you to the edge.”

Arthur sent a smug look back. “Three… two… one…”

“Go,” they said at once, sprinting off.

The people who lived there (mainly druids), poked their heads out of their homes, tents and whatever else, whilst some were merely in Merlin’s and Arthur’s path, watching on as they ran by. They all stared at the two immortals, smiling happily at the sight. Sometimes it was easy to forget how old they were, as they tended to turn up looking young. And whilst they did and said things that made them feel and seem young, other times, they had advice that could only come from centuries of experience.

When they made it to their ‘edge’, they had drawn. Even with all the magic in the land, even with tripping the other up or simply knocking them off course with a shove, nothing could ever send them out of balance. If they really tried in a race, the two would always draw. And whether that was from destiny or centuries of knowing and loving one another, it didn’t matter, for it showed how they had grown together.

The edge was very much an edge of the valley. They sat upon the hill looking out onto the place. Truly, it was massive, but somehow, Merlin and Arthur had enough magic within them to maintain a cloak around it. However, their secret weapon did lie in the crystal cave, where magic pulsed like a beating heart, living and breathing during every second.

Leaning back on their hands, staring down on the valley and up at the sky, feeling every twinge of magic, they felt at home. This was a true home, as was the Isle of the Blessed, but staying meant their eventual insanity. So, an occasional visit did well by the two, letting them keep their sanity for a few millennia yet.

A woman was watching them from the distance. She hid partly behind a tree, only glancing over the duo. She had meant to carry on with her day when a woman behind the hood of a cloak came up to her.

“How are they?” she asked, still hiding in her cloak.

“I think they’re alright, Befelen. But, as always, they carry that sadness in their eyes.”

“They have been through more than we can imagine, Lavena.” Befelen sent a look towards the two, judging them. “Do you know of the stories?”

“That they are the magic around us?”

“Yes.” Now, she stared wistfully at them, thinning her lips with her thoughts. “You see… their very essence is magic. Their souls are bound with it. And magic must be whole, so they must be together, or we all wither.”

“Hence their immortality.”

“Mhm. Few are immortal, but they had to be, for the sake of the world. When the Triple Goddess split magic up into two souls, she did so in order to keep magic from succumbing to the woes of loneliness.”

“So they _are_ soulmates, like the tales say.”

“Indeed. They are lucky to have each other. They are lucky they had a chance to begin again.”

Lavena furrowed her brow, she’d never heard of the two ‘beginning again’. “Whatever do you mean?”

“There was once a time where none of what we see before us existed. Emrys was alone. The Once and Future King dead. Or a time where the two only thought of themselves and magic, doing anything to ensure it stayed free. Both of those other possibilities brought chaos, this one, does not. It is the truest timeline.”

“Befelen, how do you know this?”

She stared at Lavena through her hood, terrifyingly. “I merely do.”

At the edge, Merlin lay his head softly on Arthur’s shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Arthur wrapped an arm around Merlin, heeding his warmth.

Merlin gave it a bit of time before sparking up a conversation. They never really talked when they relaxed at the edge, but there was always some niggling at the back of Merlin’s mind. A new question he had never asked. “What time do you miss most?”

Arthur’s eyebrows sprung up at the near impossible question. “Oh, goodness… Uh. The time at our first farm. It was a dream come true. I loved that place.” He settled his head on Merlin’s. “What time do you miss?”

“Hm… The time we were out at sea. I’ll never forget the sights.”

“I thought you hated being on the sea.”

“Nah, not really. I only hated when we had to kill our crew.”

“Yeah… Well, it was their own fault. They shouldn’t have tried to kill the natives.”

“True…” His tone had turned into a sorrow affair, remembering some of their more awful past.

Arthur kissed Merlin’s temple. “Come on, let’s go have that picnic.”  

Merlin immediately perked back up, rolling his eyes. “You and your bloody picnics.”

“I know.” Arthur stood up. “Race you to the other side? We can teleport back to the car afterwards.”

“You’re on.”

And back to racing they went. They practically tumbled down the hill as they tried to run down it. They splashed in the puddles from the recent rain. They pushed the other off the beaten track. They sent a wave to the people watching them. And they drew when they made it to a crack in a cave. From there, they used their handy ancient magic to teleport them to the car park, or close enough to it. After all, they couldn’t just appear from nowhere.

Eventually, they got to their car, popping the boot open and pulling food out of their plastic bags. They hopped up onto the boot, sitting there, chewing away on their sandwiches and snacks like pork pies, watching the people around. People who were getting their dogs out of the car, letting them run into forest, or people who had merely ended up there for a general walk. Merlin and Arthur could sense the happiness around.

Though it didn’t take long for Britain to be Britain. The sky was consumed by a dominating grey, casting darkness onto the world below. That signalled the best weather of all, rain. Everyone around wished it to go away but it was there to stay, for a few hours at least.

With great speed, Merlin and Arthur had the boot closed and the food in the front of the car in no time. They got to munching once more as they laughed at the people running around, dashing back to their cars. They did note the brave individuals who stayed out in the weather, having come prepared with raincoats. Always check the weather; that was the motto of the people. The rain only got worse from there, including all-time favourites thunder and lightning.

It was only when Merlin tore into his yoghurt that he realised what had just happened. He stilled, because what else could he do but think? A situation foretold. “Arthur…”

“Yes…?”

“Uh, is this the event from the drawing? It was this car, we were wearing these clothes, eating a picnic, while the rain batters the outside.”

Arthur’s eyes widened as he glanced out the windscreen. “Oh shit. Yeah, it was.”

“What do you think will happen?”

“Nothing? I’d hope for nothing.”

Merlin huffed out a breath, mocking. “The other drawings weren’t nothing.”

Arthur got out of the car, slamming the door instantly. He looked around, using his magic to help. He lifted his chin at one part of the forest, opening the car door to poke his head in. “A tree has fallen. From the shouts, I think people are hurt.”

Merlin got out the car, sighing this time. “Thank the goddess it’s not a creature of magic, or a dangerous sorcerer, or something worse.”

Arthur smiled, if only a little. “We can be lucky.”

“It only took fifteen centuries.”

And off they went, to save someone. To rescue them from a tree. Stealthily, though. No one could know of their magic. Or at least, not in that time.

Of course, magic was around. Magicians were often sorcerers and the magic circle consisted of druids warning them not to out themselves. So, of course, the average magic trick could be done by anyone, but the rest? Well, that was anyone’s game. 

Nobody, not even the most powerful could rid the world of its magic. It was the foundation, the base. It was the life they all breathed. Their souls. Everything had magic, one way or another. And sorcerers, they radiated with it, allowing anyone with basic talent to sense others like them if they truly felt for their power. Although, that was easier when it came to Merlin and Arthur.

The immortal sorcerers.

Who had left their mark on every time possible. Even when they had been simple farmers, something could be found. An old pot or a scrap of preserved paper. Somehow the names of Merlin and Arthur were spread throughout history. Granting, they didn’t always use their real names. Sometimes Emrys had been used, or something like Matthew or Alfred.

Regardless, the legends would never be lost. Even if they were based on little truth and written by people centuries later, who had no idea what they were talking about. For some had found evidence of a gayer time and no one could know that truth, now could they?

Not that it truly mattered to the two. Sure, they wished their history had been remembered, but what would society be like if it had? With the recent wars and weapons of mass destruction, the two kept it as a basic rule that magic must be protected yet hidden, because if world leaders knew of magic, it would spell disaster to the world. Especially if less noble sources found out about magic or even immortality.

With all that in mind, Merlin and Arthur tended to push the inevitable back, living for the now instead. They had learnt that lesson the hard way, over many centuries. Living for the present was all they had, as the past was painful and the future was terrifying. Though, they never forgot what a past friend once said, that they were made to change the world. Because, in a way, they were.

For now, however, they had peace. And that’s what mattered.

They were together. And that’s what made sense.

Time had given them a chance to begin again. And that’s just the truth.

For when Arthur’s fate was sealed in a different way, a new destiny was set in motion. Time was rewritten and everything Merlin ever dreamt of came to pass.

All because he was a stubborn, impatient, idiotic, genius, that wanted to save a courageous, arrogant, supercilious, clotpole.

All because he had the guts to start anew.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for Kateis_Cakeis' story "To Start Anew"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15920214) by [mella68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mella68/pseuds/mella68)




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